by Devon Ashley
Jack lands fast, thumping his feet harshly against the rocky floor. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t take it anymore. My muscles constantly ache,” I whine. “I have to use them before they completely waste away.”
“Stop. At least let me check your feet first.”
“What?” I’m at a complete loss when he picks up my right foot to examine my sole. The weight of my body shifts to my left and I can’t support myself. I tumble forward onto Jack and my weakened leg shakes wildly. “Jack!”
He rubs the padding of my feet before he allows it to drop. “Let me see the other.”
“Jack,” I whine, but obey his request the moment I feel he’s reaching for my left foot regardless. Both my forearms rest over his hunched back. The sparkly glimmer coursing through the veins of his wings hypnotizes me with envy. His magic glitters the softest blue. How I long to see the shimmer of yellow that shines off mine. I pray I’ll get to see it again.
His hand scrapes against the rough, dead skin on my heel and I moan from embarrassment. My poor body is absolutely disgusting right now, parched of the necessary nutrients to quench my body’s thirst, and the thought of someone examining even a small part of it is humiliating.
“Alright.” He lets go of my foot. My hands slide down his back, over the curvature of his bicep and latch onto his arm as he stands. “Looks like the salve’s gotten your cuts to close over. They’re still pink though, so you may feel it pinch if you walk on it. Do you want me to numb your feet first?”
“You’ve been putting the salve on my feet?”
“And your forehead. Don’t you remember slamming your head against the ground?”
“No.” I cock my eyebrows when I add, “But I remember the broken glass from the lantern cutting up my body while I searched for scraps in the darkness.”
His cheeks flush and his lips press tightly into a thin line.
Speaking of…I don’t recall cutting myself these past few days. I search the ground with my eyes but nothing on the ground catches and reflects the light.
“I picked everything up a few days ago,” he glumly explains. His soft mossy eyes look down to me. “Sorry about that. I feel really bad.”
I sigh, closing my eyes and shaking my head, completely annoyed with myself for saying that. I know it’s true. He knows it’s true. But he’s more than made up for it these past few days. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I’m still harboring a little resentment.”
He nods in agreement. “Rightfully so. Do you want me to help you walk around?”
“Nah. It’s not like I can go that far. I’m surrounded by rock in every direction.”
“And it’s been ever so thoughtful to catch you multiple times before,” he adds snarkily, blowing a puff of air at the cut on my forehead. I huff, and feel the slightest tickle in my abdomen.
I release his arm and transfer my balance to the wall of my prison. I won’t lie; just standing there is close to killing me. I grimace with the first step, a wave of stings snaking up and attacking the muscle in my leg. Jack looks ready to attack me, the way his body jerks when I scowl with each advancing step. The first trip around the cell is incredibly painful, but the second is better, my muscles adjusting to the weight and beginning to lengthen. Jack simply stands in the center, rotating to follow my every move, ready to jump like a nervous tick.
“Don’t you think that’s far enough for your first attempt?”
Huffing, I throw him a questionable glare. “Attempt means failure and that’s not in my vocabulary.”
“So I’m beginning to see,” he mutters, crossing his arms, returning the playful glare.
“Jack,” I say, unsure of whether or not I should proceed with the question that’s been in my head all night…and probably the source of my insomnia.
“Yeah?”
I turn myself in the opposite direction. I think I’m trying to avoid his gaze, but with him holding steady in the center, I’m hard bent to avoid it. My heart beats a little faster when I finally find the courage to ask, “Do you ever see the other pixies when you’re here?”
I see him shift out of the corner of my eye. “No.” I moan my heartache in silence. “Since you told me that none of you were charged with a crime, I’ve actually taken various routes through the prison out of curiosity, but I’ve never seen anyone.”
“We work sunrise to sunset, so they’d be in the cave during that time.”
“I’m here before sunrise.”
My surprise actually stops me in my tracks. “Really? Finley requires you work that early?”
“No.” He must take my lack of movement as exhaustion because he takes a few steps towards me and leans his back against the wall, arms still crossed, blocking any advancement I could make. “But these days I find it hard to sleep well.”
“Me too.” I decide to sit and give my legs the break they deserve, suddenly feeling very tired. “If you’re flying over, you won’t see them. The pit we’re kept in is glamoured.”
“A glamour within a glamour? That’s weird.” He joins me on the floor, keeping his eyes forward like me.
“Not if you don’t realize your prison is a glamour to begin with. For the longest time I thought the desolate wasteland was real. Like a fire had taken it at one time and the forest never recovered.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Jack removes a roll of bread from his satchel and hands it to me. His sister must really love bread to make it fresh every day. “How’d you figure out it was a glamour?”
“The ripples in the barrier,” I say between nibbles. “Once I saw them in the illusion covering our pit, I began to wonder if the edge of our so-called wasteland had one too. It didn’t make sense to see life flourishing across the canyon and nothing where we were. No birds, no plants. Not even the wind broke through. It just didn’t make sense.”
“There were ripples? The mushroom powder in the dust should’ve prevented that. I mean, that’s what it’s used for. Illusions.”
“Oh, my Mother Nature,” I mumble, bending my head and banging my free palm against my forehead. “No. They didn’t.”
“What?”
I smear my hand down over my face, burying myself behind it, shaking my head. They were using our own mushroom powder against us! Jack’s right. Quality pixie dust with hallucinogenic mushrooms would never expose the weaknesses of the illusion. But because they use the mushroom powder we make, whose quality we never give a crap about, the pixie dust isn’t top notch. That’s why I could see the magical ripple! The magic’s flawed!
I burst into a fit of giggles, and the release feels so good.
“What?” Jack inquires again.
“Nothing, sorry,” I say, waving him off. “Private thought.”
It’s not that part of me doesn’t trust Jack enough to be honest, but something inside me tells me it’s best to keep this to myself. It’s not my secret to share. It belongs to all us pixies. And should it ever get out, they’ll be the ones to bear the punishment, and I won’t be responsible for that. Besides, making the faeries awful mushroom powder is our one enjoyment in this crappy world. Our one way to get back at them for unlawfully imprisoning us.
And it serves them right. I hope every spell they perform blows up in their faces.
Jack looks like he’s going to push me for an answer, so I quickly pop out, “I was only asking ‘cause I feel bad for leaving Willow to take care of everyone without me. Like I’ve abandoned them or something. I guess I just wanted to know that they’re doing okay without me.”
His arms relax to his sides. I pick at the roll, popping little pieces into my mouth. The yeast isn’t as strong in this batch, so I’m left to chew on tasteless calories.
“I’m sure they’re fine, Rosalie. If Willow’s anything like you, she’ll move forward no matter what happens.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, chewing another piece of bread. I know he’s probably right, but I’m left to wonder how long Willow will hold out hope that I’ll one day ret
urn. I hope she knows I’ll fight until my dying breath.
“So what about the males? Juniper told me that there are male pixies mining diamonds somewhere.”
Jack nods his head. “I’m surprised she knew that. They used to be kept within the same glamour, but I think about ten years ago they minimized this glamour and made a new one for the males. But to answer your question, I don’t know. I’ve never gone into that one.”
“Why’d they separate us?”
“I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”
I sigh quietly. I have every intention of freeing them as well, but they’ll be the hardest of all, seeing as how I have no idea where they are or what their glamour will entail. I only hope the males are holding up better than the females.
Sitting with my head lying atop my knees, I rock my body gently forwards and backwards. I’m hoping the motion will ease the cramping in my lower abdomen, but nothing seems to be calming my intestines, which seem to be mad at me for introducing too much food too soon. Oh well. I’ll take this discomfort over the starvation pains any day.
I hear the echoes of Jack’s whistles as he makes his way down the cave passage. When I told him what was hurting me earlier, he’d set off, simply stating that he’d be back. Please let him have something to ease my pain. But as he descends, all I see is a bucket, similar to the one he fills with water for me.
My forehead furrows in confusion. “What’s this for?” I ask as he sets it down beside me and sits across the hole.
“So you can…you know…go.”
“That’s what you went to get for me?” I immediately feel guilty about snapping at him. It’s just…that wasn’t what I was looking forward to. I was hoping for some concoction of herbs to drink that would relieve my pain. Not…a bucket.
“Well, you can’t dirty your water bucket and no way do I want you to keep going on the floor. Especially now that you’re eating so much.”
Groaning, I bury my eyes in my knees and for once welcome the darkness. “Mother Nature, this is so humiliating! How could my life possibly get any worse?”
“You could be naked.”
My head rises far enough for my eyes to shoot him an evil glare. He cocks his eyebrows suggestively.
“What?” he tries to ask innocently. “You asked how your life could be worse. Being naked would definitely make life worse.”
I want to tell him where he can shove his idea of nudity – Mother Nature, this pain is making me moody! – but decide my best course of action is to change what he’s thinking altogether, because me being naked is not something I want him focusing on. Especially since my clothes are wearing pretty thin these days. “So why haven’t you told me anything about your family?”
He cocks a half-smile, and the flame catches the glint in his cool green eyes. “Why haven’t you ever asked me before?”
Because I didn’t need you distracted then… “Sorry, but family isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when I meet new fae. Where I grew up, we don’t have families.”
His smile fades. “What?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “The eggs in our Hollow are collectively raised by the town, not individuals. I suppose some parents may be able to figure out which child is theirs, but anyone born within the same three months are given the same season as their birthday. I was given autumn. And our names come a little later, so no pixie can really be identified.”
“That’s…well, I’d say awful, since it’s so different than what we do here, but I guess to each his own. If it works, it works.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Who says it works? I felt protected growing up, but never really loved. How can you when there’s no one that really takes an interest in your well-being? They just show you the ropes and send you on your way.”
He smiles sweetly. “I don’t know, Rosalie. You seem like you turned out okay to me. You’re strong. You care about the well-being of others. You seem to fear very little. And you refuse to roll over.”
“Exactly which one of those traits got my village to come look for me?” I ask dryly.
His gaze averts to the flame and for a moment he’s quiet. “I have a mother and a father, and my little sister, Starla.”
Good. He doesn’t want to continue that other conversation any more than I do.
“A mighty fine cook. How old is she?”
“Thirteen. So you can see why she’s a pain.”
I chuckle. “I really wouldn’t know. I never considered any of the younger pixlings a sibling, so I was never really bothered by them growing up.”
He nods in agreement. “She’s not really that bad. She’s just reaching that age where she questions everything you’re doing. Where are you going? Why? What are you going to do there? Who’s going to be there? Why do you hang out with them anyway? Does mother know you’re going? It’s like a freakin’ inquisition.”
“Sounds like she’s really interested in her big brother.”
“More like my parents baited her to do their dirty work. They don’t trust me to stay out of trouble these days.”
My mind immediately recalls the conversation Jack had with Finley right here in this hole, and why he was here to begin with. “So what exactly did you do to get stuck watching me? Something you and your friend did?”
“It was just a prank,” he tries to explain seriously, but fails, a smile creeping across his face. “More my friend’s doing than mine.”
Being a pixie, the fae best known for screwing with others, I don’t buy that. “Uh-huh. Sure. It’s always someone else’s idea.”
“No, really. I played a part but it was all his doing.” I cock my eyebrows, glaring until he decides to defend himself. “Look, I’ll tell you, but I probably don’t come off too good in this, even though I didn’t do it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It was stupid, really. This faerie Aliza has been chasing down my best mate Bastian for awhile now. Literally. Everywhere we go, she’s right behind us, to the point we can’t shake her. And Bastian can’t stand her. He’s told her he’s not interested and to just flit off, but she won’t.”
“Sounds desperate.”
“It is. Sorry, but guys typically don’t like faeries that are that easy. We want to be the ones chasing. It’s instinctive. Don’t get me wrong, Aliza’s pretty enough, but she’s not something Bastian wants to bother with. She’s annoyed him too much at this point.”
“So what exactly did you do to her? ‘Cause I can tell this is the part that got you into trouble.”
“Well…” he drags out, “one day we came across this bee hive in the forest.”
“Oh, no.” I moan and bury my eyes behind my hands as if the shame were my own.
“Yeah. We smoked the bees out and took the hive. The next time Aliza chased us down, we took off to where we stashed it. I stood out in the open and Bastian hid up above. When Aliza stopped to talk to me, Bastian poured the honey all over her wings so she couldn’t take flight again. She had to walk home that day, and it wasn’t a short walk.”
“Mother Nature. Jack! That’s horrible!”
“It’s not like it did permanent damage,” he defends. “All she had to do was wash it off.” He points his finger at me, adding, “And it has kept her from following us again.”
I shake my head. “That poor faerie.”
“Poor is something she’s not. In fact, that’s why we got into trouble. She’s the daughter of one of our elders.”
“Brilliant, Jack. Brilliant,” I chastise. “So if you’re here with me, what’s Bastian’s punishment?”
“He got manure duty for three months. He has to go out into the forest and collect a certain amount of feces each day to make the fertilizer with.”
My nose crinkles. “Ooh. Yuck.” Typically the male pixies in our Hollow dealt with that, but there were times I flew through the nearby meadow and caught a whiff. “I suppose pixie-sitting me is better than that?”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah. I was mad at fi
rst, but when I heard what Bastian got, I got over it.”
“So what about you, Jack?” I ask suggestively, crossing my arms and eying him playfully. “Got any faeries in mind for courting?”
“Courting!” he bellows, practically spitting across the hole. “Are you crazy? There are very few I’d even consider dating at this point.”
“Down boy,” I ease, holding my hands up in surrender. I certainly don’t want him bursting that blood vessel currently pulsating on his forehead. “Got it. You’re not ready to court. But what exactly is dating?”
“What’s dating?” he asks incredulously. “Seriously? Don’t you pixies date?”
“Maybe. What is it?”
“It comes before courting. You go out with a few different faeries, or in your case pixies, before deciding which one you want to court. You know, try them on for size and see if you’re right for each other. Don’t you pixies do that?”
I shake my head. “No. We just court.”
“Dear, Mother Nature. Can you break off the courtship if one of you wants out?”
“Huh. I don’t know. I’ve never noticed it happening before, but I suppose someone would have at some point.”
“So…were you…uh…being courted back home?”
My lips curl in one direction, laughing internally over his awkwardness. “No. Guess I haven’t found a pixie that gets my wings fluttering either.”
There’s a quiet hmm coming off his throat, then we sit in silence for a few minutes. I don’t mind the silence really. Just his presence is comforting. It keeps me from going all crazy down here. But the longer I sit in silence, the more I realize my intestines are still mad at me. The internal twisting is painful. My knees shoot upward and I keel over to bury my face in my legs, gently rocking.
Metal scrapes across the rock, nearing my body, and I know it’s that dreadful bucket Jack brought me. As I twist my head sideways to glare up at him, he says, “Let me know when you’re done with that.” At least he’s not mocking me, or flashing me any type of embarrassing facial expressions. But the humiliation of my predicament overwhelms my emotions. I cringe and bury my head once more, digging my hands roughly through my oil-soaked hair. I can’t believe this is really happening to me.