by Matt Haig
But it wasn’t enough. Memories can only tease you, they can’t fill your stomach any more than they can bring the dead back to life.
Then, in the darkness of his closed eyes, a scent tickled his nostrils. It was a real smell this time, and not a remembered one.
In fact, Samuel’s nose had never sniffed anything quite so delicious.
He opened his eyes and found himself faced with a decision. The path made a Y in front of him, breaking off in two directions. One way led up a steep hill, the other slightly down.
His nose made the decision. Although his legs were tired, Samuel’s nostrils directed him up the thin winding path on his right and this time Ibsen didn’t growl any obvious objection.
Samuel had no idea what the smell was. He had never smelled anything like it before. It was sweet and savory all at once. Strong yet subtle. It was a smell that made every other smell in the world completely pointless.
“Mmmm,” he said, because his nose was now commanding his mouth as well as his feet.
The path flattened, and the canopy of leaves became less dense, letting in more of the soft evening light. A small log cabin appeared in a gap between two trees.
The cabin had an arch-shaped green door and two windows, one of which was open. This is it, thought Samuel. This is where the smell is coming from.
He stopped, worried. He thought of the last house he had seen, with the skeleton inside. He remembered what his aunt and the book had told him about all the different deadly creatures who inhabit the forest. But then, maybe whoever lived in this house knew where Martha was.
He staggered forward, along the light-dappled path, still entranced by the smell that had seduced his nostrils and teased his stomach. Ibsen whimpered, but even he seemed to be captivated by the dreamlike aromas wafting over the air.
“Food,” mumbled Samuel.
Then the door opened, and out of the log cabin stepped a small creature—a man about three feet tall. No. Not a man. It was a small, childlike being, with pointed ears and an angelic little face that looked as pure and delicate as a snowflake.
It would have been very hard to imagine that such a face could belong to a murderer, but murderers come in very many shapes and sizes. As Samuel was about to find out.
The Truth Pixie
Samuel’s heart began to race, and fear traveled through his every nerve. The skull had been scary, but at least it had been dead. Sure, he had seen huldres and a Tomtegubb before, but only from a distance, and in the dark. Now in broad daylight he was faced with this living creature, who wasn’t a human or an animal; it seemed very different. He felt like he couldn’t trust his own eyes.
“Hello there, friend,” the pixie said, as if he had been expecting Samuel to arrive.
Friend.
Samuel was worried. Why was the creature calling him his friend? And how could he understand what he was saying? He remembered what he had read in the book he held in his arms.
Most creatures in the forest speak Hekron, a universal language that everyone—even humans—can understand…
He held the book close to his chest. In a world he no longer trusted, Professor Tanglewood’s book was going to be a lifeline. It gave him faith.
“Are you all right, friend?”
There it was again. Friend.
Samuel was suspicious of the word.
But the innocent little creature had the kindest eyes and the kindest smile Samuel had ever seen. Everything about him seemed so welcoming—even his strange, upturned nose and pointy ears had a softness to them. Samuel felt the terror leave his body, and the hunger return.
“Hello,” Samuel said as the smell surrounded him like an invisible cloud.
“You look tired, friend. And hungry. Why don’t you come inside and have some soup?” The creature stepped out onto the grass, but Samuel didn’t notice that he had no shadow. And even if he had noticed this, he wouldn’t have known to run away.
“I’m looking for my sister,” Samuel said. “She went into the forest but I can’t find her. She’s ten years old and is wearing a dark blue dress. Have you seen her?”
“No, friend. I have seen no sister.”
“I have to find her. Do you know—”
Before Samuel had time to finish his question, the creature interrupted him and said: “Well, an empty stomach won’t help, will it? Come on, what do you say?”
Samuel didn’t say anything, but his stomach answered with the most enormous rumble.
The pixie clapped his hands. “Exactly!”
One minute later, Samuel and Ibsen found themselves sitting inside the log cabin, watching the creature stir a pot of soup on top of an iron stove. It was sort of like being in a doll’s house, as everything seemed out of proportion. Samuel looked around and noticed the strange way the cabin had been decorated. The log walls were painted white, with splodges of purple and gray.
“I really need to find my sister. Are you sure you haven’t seen her?”
“No, friend. I am sure.”
While the pixie had his back turned, Samuel opened the book under the table.
Why weren’t there any pictures? It would have been much easier if Professor Tanglewood had taken photographs of the creatures, or even drawn illustrations.
Instead, he had just written the name of each creature in capital letters at the top of every page, with a written description underneath. This meant it would take Samuel longer to work out which of the many forest creatures his host was.
A huldre? No.
A troll? No.
A Tomtegubb? No.
A Slemp? No.
A Flying Skullpecker? No.
He turned over the next page but didn’t have time to look at it as the creature came over with a bowl of bright yellow soup. The bowl looked very big in the pixie’s hands, but was a normal size for a human.
The flavor rose up with the steam and delighted Samuel’s nostrils. He trembled with hunger. Even if it had reindeer in it, he knew he would gobble up the soup in five seconds flat.
“Mmmm,” he found himself saying. “That smells delicious.”
The creature rubbed his hands together in excitement, as if he was going to enjoy watching his guest taste the soup almost as much as Samuel was going to enjoy eating it.
“It is my special recipe. Special, special.”
“Oh,” Samuel said.
Ibsen barked and Samuel took the bark to mean “I’d like some soup too, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s all right. I’ll save you some.”
Samuel picked up his spoon and was about to start tucking in when Ibsen jumped up at him, causing the soup to shake off the spoon and land on the page he hadn’t yet seen.
Samuel looked down at the book and saw the words TRUTH PIX. It was meant to say TRUTH PIXIE but there was a splodge of soup over the IE.
Samuel read on:
This creature lives in a small log cabin high on one of the Eastern hills. He is three feet tall, and has the most innocent looking face imaginable. Distinguishing features include pointed ears, an upturned nose and feet that look too big for the pixie’s body. Don’t be fooled by his appearance, as this creature is VERY DANGEROUS.
Samuel stopped reading because the Truth Pixie was talking.
“What is that matter? Do you not want to eat the lovely soup?”
“No,” said Samuel, staring at the Pixie’s large feet. “I mean yes…I mean I wasn’t not eating it. I just dropped a bit. On my knee.”
He pushed the book farther under the table so the Truth Pixie couldn’t see. The creature gave his guest a suspicious look.
Samuel didn’t want to explain what he was reading, for obvious reasons.
He spotted a brown loaf on top of the small oven in a silver tray. “Can I have some bread, please? It’s just…I like to dip it into my soup.”
The Truth Pixie stood as still as a picture, with a face halfway between a smile and a frown.
“You want bread with my soup?”
“Bread with soup! What a funny request!”
“It’s…um…quite normal where I come from. And I can share it with my dog.”
The Truth Pixie looked like he was about to get very cross, but he kept the crossness inside and said: “Very well. Bread with soup.”
So the creature turned and walked over to the silver tray and started slicing the bread with a knife. While Samuel wasn’t being watched, he quickly pulled the book from under the table and carried on reading.
Truth Pixies are very dangerous because they lure other creatures (including humans) with kind smiles and promises of rest and food, before serving them a poisonous soup. The soup smells delicious but contains a deadly herb called Hewlip that grows naturally on the hillside.
One minute after tasting the soup, the Hewlip expands your brain until your head explodes. This inevitably is a bloody and painful death, which the Truth Pixie enjoys—occasionally applauding this most terrible sight.
But then, in smaller print at the bottom of the page, there was something else.
WEAKNESS: An inability to lie.
A Few Factualities
“Five slices.”
Samuel jumped. He hadn’t heard the Truth Pixie walk back over to the table with the bread.
The book slammed shut between Samuel’s legs. “Thank you,” he said.
“What is that?” The Truth Pixie’s finger was pointed toward Samuel’s lap.
“Oh, it’s just…er…a book. A book of stories. It’s nothing important. It’s all made up.”
“Stories.” The Truth Pixie made a face and stuck out his tongue as if a story was a type of disgusting food. “I hate stories very much. I like factualities, not fictionalities.”
The Truth Pixie slumped his shoulders, and Samuel wondered for a moment if such a sweet-looking creature could really be very dangerous.
“It is getting cold.”
“What?”
The Truth Pixie pointed now at Samuel’s bowl. “The special soup. It is nicer when it is warm. You should eat it—mmmm. Good soup. Special soup.”
Samuel picked up one of the pieces of bread and tore it in half. The Truth Pixie’s eyes were wide with excitement as the bread was dunked into the soup.
Of course, Samuel had no intention of eating the soup but he still hadn’t thought of how he was going to escape. He knew he had to do something, but what?
Then he remembered—
WEAKNESS: An inability to lie.
“Are you a Truth Pixie?” Samuel asked as the bread hung between the bowl and his mouth.
The Truth Pixie screwed his face up, as if the question had just punched him on his upturned nose. “Yes,” he said, then covered his mouth with his hand.
Samuel nodded. “And is this soup poisonous?”
The Truth Pixie scrunched his face even more. “Yes,” he said as his hand left his mouth.
“What will it do to me?”
The Truth Pixie winced. “It is very poisonous and it will make your brain burst out of your head and splatter on the walls and give you a death of the most horrible pain you can imagine.”
Samuel kept asking questions and the Truth Pixie kept blurting out answers in between slapping his own face and biting his hand.
“So you are trying to kill me?”
“Nnnnnnn—yes!”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy it! It makes me feel not so small!”
“What will happen if I don’t eat the soup?”
“Nothing!”
“Won’t you try and hurt me?”
“No!” By this point the Truth Pixie was biting his hand so much he was bleeding.
“Why not?”
“Because I am scared you will hurt me back!”
“Why?”
“Because I am a small weak pixie who feels pain more than any other creature.”
“What would you do if I stood up and walked out of your house? Would you follow me?”
“No!”
“What if I took your sandals?” Samuel asked, staring at the sandals on the pixie’s big feet. “Would you do anything?”
“I might call you names.”
“What names?”
“Stinkymudfungle. Elf-breath. Bottom-squelch.”
“Those names wouldn’t hurt a five-year-old.”
The Truth Pixie sighed. “They’re the worst I know.”
“And would you do anything else?”
The Truth Pixie desperately tried to lie. “Yo. I mean nes. I mean—”
“You mean no, don’t you?”
“Nnnnnnnn—yes!”
The Truth Pixie was exhausted with all his hopeless efforts at lying. “Don’t hurt me. Please. Please. I can’t help it. I didn’t used to be like this…I didn’t used to try and poison anyone. I used to be good. I didn’t used to put Hewlip in my soup, I just used to enjoy being a good…a good…”
Samuel couldn’t believe it. A minute ago the pixie had been trying to kill him and now he was on the edge of tears.
“Why did you change?” Samuel asked. “Why can’t you make normal soup? Why can’t you just…be good?”
“It’s my shadow,” he said. He looked surprised at his words, as if three little mice had just ran out of his mouth. “I don’t…understand. When I had my shadow I used to like gentle things. I used to like spickle dancing and singing flower songs, but no pixies do those things anymore. They aren’t enough. We take darker pleasures now…violent things. Exploding heads. Trolls, mainly. Stupid creatures not worth their height. Think with their stomachs. Make a great mess when they blow, though, that’s the problem. Their blood and brains stain the walls.”
Samuel gulped as the gray and purple on the walls gained new meaning. But the thought of splattered brains wasn’t enough to ruin his appetite.
He picked up the slices of bread. “Are these poisonous?”
“No.”
Samuel shared the bread with Ibsen and didn’t stop munching until there wasn’t a crumb left. Then Ibsen fell asleep on the floor and Samuel decided to find out as much as he could from the murderous little creature with no shadow.
The Questions Samuel Asked the Truth Pixie and the Answers He Received
SAMUEL: What happened? Who stole your shadow?
TRUTH PIXIE: It was the Shadow Witch. She is one of the two Forest Witches. I didn’t understand it. She had been here before and I had cooked her soup. Soup without Hewlip in it. Her and her sister. The Snow Witch. They had been nice to me. And I had been nice to them. And I had shown them my spickle dancing. But then one day, two ravens landed on the grass outside my cabin. One of them transformed into the Shadow Witch; while the other just stayed there, outside on the grass. The Shadow Witch knocked on my door, and I let her in. She had a much sadder and older face, even though it had only been six moons since I had last seen her.
SAMUEL: What happened? What did she do?
TRUTH PIXIE: She kept mumbling things under her breath. Things that were less than words but more than silence. After she finished mumbling, she left and I saw her out, but when I looked on the ground I realized something was missing. I looked down on the grass and realized I had no shadow. And it was a sunny day. Without a cloud in the sky. Look now, even as I stand by the window, I have no shadow whatsoever.
SAMUEL: Are you a ghost?
TRUTH PIXIE: No. But sometimes I…I feel like I am. I have changed so much I might as well have died. All that was good has been lost…Oh, it is terrible. I am terrible. How I would love to see your head explode. That sounds so bad, doesn’t it?
SAMUEL: A bit. Yes. Do you know where my sister might be?
TRUTH PIXIE: No. No. I don’t know that.
SAMUEL: I heard a scream. Near the edge of the forest. And then I found a hole. With smoke coming out of it. I think she might have fallen down it.
TRUTH PIXIE: The huldres. They have holes all along the border. They work for the Changemaker.
SAM
UEL: (remembering what he had read earlier) The Changemaker? The huldres work for him.
TRUTH PIXIE: Yes. The Changemaker is the overlord of the forest. I have never seen him, but his name chills the hearts of every creature in the forest, especially those creatures who still have their shadows. They are the Unchanged. Like you. Criminals. And if your sister is caught by the huldres, she will be sent to the Changemaker, like all the other prisoners.
SAMUEL: And what will happen to her?
TRUTH PIXIE: I don’t know. All I know is that those who are sent to the Changemaker don’t come back.
SAMUEL: I wish you were a Lie Pixie.
TRUTH PIXIE: So do I.
SAMUEL: (who did not know the Changemaker was really Professor Horatio Tanglewood) But who is the Changemaker? And why did the Changemaker want to do all these things?
TRUTH PIXIE: I do not know.
SAMUEL: Is he evil?
TRUTH PIXIE: Evil is not what you are. It is what you do. He does evil. And so do I.
SAMUEL: I must find my sister. What is the best chance of finding her?
TRUTH PIXIE: The best chance is to go to the Changemaker. That is where the huldres will take her if she’s in prison.
SAMUEL: Where is the Changemaker?
TRUTH PIXIE: The Changemaker lives in a clearing in the North of the forest. He lives with the Shadow Witch in the middle of a clearing in a tree called the Still Tree.
SAMUEL: How do I get there?
TRUTH PIXIE: You must follow the crooked path down the hill. Then turn right and keep going. Keep walking in a very straight line. Not too far left. Not too far right. After a while you will see the Hewlip bush. You will recognize the Hewlip bush from its bright yellow leaves with a jagged edge like this one I have here. Once you have passed this bush, you will be entering THE MOST DANGEROUS PART OF THE FOREST. The closer you get to the Changemaker, the more deadly the forest becomes. And remember, the creatures with no shadows are the deadly ones. You must keep on walking in a straight line for a long while until you reach a road. It is a wide road with wagon tracks pressed into the earth. You turn right when you reach that road and it will lead you past the lake and toward the Changemaker’s clearing.