Need np-1

by Carrie Jones

  "You could have at least given him some clothes!" I yell, but they just go back inside and close the door.

  Asthenophobia fear of fainting or weakness

  "Hell," Jay mumbles. "Hell. It's cold."

  "Donot worry," I say, yanking him up with one hand. He barely makes it. "I have a plan."

  We hobble toward the boundary of the woods. I take off my jacket, try to get it on him. It's way too short and small, even though he's so skinny now, but it's something.

  "What are we going to do?" He shudders.

  His feet are blue and naked.

  "We are going to get help," I say as we make it to the woods. I whistle and then I yell. "Gram!"

  Nothing.

  "Mick!"

  Above us an eagle circles. It screeches. Two seconds later they storm out of the woods, a massive white tiger and a wolf, a beautiful brown wolf. They are wild and fierce looking. Gram is beautiful but so… so… I don't know. She's strong. Her muscles are massive, feral, gorgeous. And Nick? Nick is here. He came back to help, like he said he would before he found out about the whole pixie gene thing.

  I raise my hand and smile so big my teeth hurt from the cold.

  "Holy…Holy…" Jay staggers back.

  "You're hallucinating," I tell him. "Do not stress."

  He passes out, which is only to be expected. I half catch him with my good arm, stagger, and place him gently on the ground.

  Both Gram and Nick are growling and angry; teeth bared, ready to kill and ready to spring and tear before they are killed. But I know there are too many pixies in there for them to handle. I know that killing is not cool, no matter how awful people or pixies are.

  "Ihave a better idea," I tell them. "You've got to trust me. We're going to go into phase two of my amended plan. It's amended since Mom came early. I guess it's part plan and part rescue mission. I'll tell you at home, okay?"

  The first thing we do is wake Jay up, sort of. We balance him on Gram's back. She will drop him off where someone will find him quickly. I take my jacket so there's nothing tracing him back to me. She leaps off into the woods, and Nick and I head back to my house, where we will call lssie, wait for Gram, and then start the plan. Because I think I have one and it sure as hell better work.

  Atychiphobia fear of failure

  Phone service is back up and Devyn calls lssie, and then leaves to bring her over. Gram calls Mrs. Nix, the school secretary.

  "She's a bear," Betty explains after she hangs up the phone. "I trust her."

  I don't even blink.

  Nick stalks around the room, angry, not really looking at me.

  Finally I grab him by the arm and say, "What?"

  "You went with him."

  Something inside me bristles. "He threatened you."

  "I can take care of myself, Zara." He yanks his arm away and heads into the kitchen, where Gram is studying the silverware.

  "It was part of the plan that I go outside with him," I say. "We talked about it at the hospital. You know that. I was the bait. You and Gram would attack. It almost worked perfectly."

  "Only because I came back with Devyn. Only because he saw what direction he took you in." "We had no choice. We had to get Jay." Betty holds up a fork. "Do you think there's iron in this?"

  I blow her off and shout down Nick. "I found out where they were. Did you ever think of that? Now we can go after them, trap them there."

  "How do you propose we do that, genius?" He leans against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  Gram coughs. "No name calling."

  "Yeah," I say. "No name calling, dog breath."

  Gram tries not to laugh. She holds up her hands.

  "I'm going to go wait in the living room while you two lovebirds kill each other."

  "We can find the house again by retracing our scent trail, right?"

  "It won't last long. Not with the snow," he mutters.

  "That's why we're doing this now."

  He eyes me and something in his shoulders relaxes. "How do I know? How do I know you aren't in on it? Aren't pixied?"

  Gram calls in from the other room, "Because she couldn't wear the iron bracelet, dog."

  "Hey. Now who's name calling?" I yell, smiling, before I look back at Nick. He's bending over at the waist like he has a stomach cramp. I reach out to almost touch him, but don't. My voice gentles out, "You okay?"

  "I feel stupid," he says really slowly. "Of course you wouldn't be able to wear the bracelet if you were a pixie."

  "It's okay," I say, but I'm not sure that it is.

  A muscle in his cheek twitches as he storms across the hardwood floor and into the living room. But at the threshold he turns and says, "I don't want you to take chances, not for me, okay?"

  I swallow and try to make a joke of it because I don't know if I can keep holding it together any other way. "Okay, Mr. Lovey Dovey."

  They come on snowmobiles. Nick piggybacks Devyn in because he hasn't brought his wheelchair.

  "I hope I start healing faster," Devyn says as Nick drops him into the white chair by the door.

  "Yeah, I'm sick of carrying you," Nick says, but you can tell he's just bluffing.

  "You're already freaking the doctors out," issie says, sitting on the braided carpet. She leans back against his legs. "You're supposed to be completely paralyzed."

  "They'll just call it a miracle," Gram says as Mrs. Nix comes in. She opens her arms. The ladies hug. It's kind of cute. Mrs. Nix blushes when she sees us.

  "So, I'm a bear," she explains, eyeing us all. "Wait? Is Issie something?"

  "Nope," Issie pouts. "All human. All the time."

  "The coolest human ever," Devyn says, reaching down and ruffling her hair.

  I take charge. "Okay, Betty's explained what's going on, right?"

  Everyone nods. Nick perches on the arm of the couch, and Mrs. Nix sits in the other green chair as I pace across the braided rug.

  "So, my theory is that the pixies can't cross iron," I say. "My iron bracelet burned Ian. Plus, it says on the Web site that they hate iron, even stick to rural areas just to avoid it."

  lssie asks, "Why iron?"

  Devyn goes into full geek mode and answers before I can, "Iron is one of the last elements that is created by stellar nucleo-synthesis."

  I have no idea what he just said.

  Neither does anyone else.

  "English, Devyn," Nick commands.

  Devyn's exasperation shows in the way he pulls his hand through his hair. "It's really heavy. It's really dense. And its nuclei have these ridiculously high levels of binding energy. It's strong, really strong."

  "But why don't pixies like it?" I ask.

  Devyn shrugs. "Does it matter?"

  Mrs. Nix clears her throat. "That's one part of the folklore that has stayed consistent about pixies. It always says that they can be killed with iron, that they avoid it."

  "Well," I say. "Let's hope that's true."

  "What's your plan?" Mick asks.

  "To make them prisoners," I lock eyes with Nick, and then indicate that I'm thinking about the basement.

  "We have these big metal railroad ties from train tracks. And some wire. Mrs. Nix, you brought some more with you, right?"

  "Right," she says.

  "We have duct tape and stainless steel forks," I check them off.

  "This is a weird idea, Zara," Devyn says. "I mean… yeah. Wow. Forks?"

  "It is the best I can come up with." I wipe my hands together, try not to think about my mother trapped in there, try not to think about Jay Dahlberg's wounds, and try not to think about the possible moral implications of what we're about to do. "Everybody set?"

  Everybody is set.

  "Good," I say. "Let's get going."

  "You think this will work, Zara?" lssie asks.

  We are hiding behind a tree trunk. We've got a massive stash of barbed wire and railroad ties behind us.

  I grab her hand and squeeze it. "I hope so."

  Sh
e squeezes back. "Me too."

  "You don't have to help, you know," I whisper.

  "Oh, shut up," she says, blowing warm air onto her hands. "Friends help friends fight pixies."

  "Right," I say. "Right."

  I glance over at the other trees. Betty is behind one. Devyn and Nick are behind another. Devyn's in eagle form, and Mrs. Nix is a bear. Everyone else seems human. The end of some barbed wire dangles from Devyn's beak.

  Mrs. Nix lumbers toward the house. She sniffs the air. Her bear paws pad heavily against the earth. She wiggles her ears forward. That's our signal that no pixies are outside.

  Nick gives me the thumbs-up. We haven't talked much about me being the daughter of a pixie. We haven't had time. My mom's more important now. But I'm still afraid of what it might mean for us, for me.

  Not important now.

  I give the second signal and we go. We sprint toward the house, carrying ties and stabbing them into the earth. One after another, we shove them down. Is and I work together because neither of us are super strong and my arm holds me back. Devyn's yellow beak glistens in the twilight. Wire hangs from it. He wheels the barbed wire around, connecting the ties. We have to hurry before the pixies notice that something is happening. lssie shoves a tie into the snow. "You're sure there's a house there."

  "I swear," I say, laying out another tie. My muscles burn from the weight. "I can see it. I promise."

  "Sometimes it sucks being human," lssie says. We both lean in, slamming down another tie.

  "No, Is. No, it doesn't."

  We hauled all of the iron stuff over here in carts hitched behind snowmobiles that belong to Issie's parents and Mrs. Nix. I didn't realize how heavy the ties were then, but they are. It's adrenalin that keeps us moving. Gram dumps some more. Devyn grabs more barbed wire. His giant wings flap through the air.

  The circle is almost complete. We only need a few more.

  Nick rushes past me, his arms full of ties. He cuts across the front lawn. The front door of the house opens. Mrs. Nix roars out a warning.

  I throw down another tie.

  "Nick!" I yell. He looks up. "They're coming out!"

  A pixie rushes toward Nick. His teeth are fanged and deadly. He lunges for Nick. Nick lashes out with the barbed wire. It hits the pixie in the face. Steam rises from a burn mark on the pixie's skin. He stumbles to the ground, hand to his cheek. Nick stands there, waiting.

  "Get back, Nick!" Gram yells.

  Nick hesitates. His muscles seem to bunch up and shake. He wants to turn wolf. I know it.

  "Now!" Gram orders.

  He rushes back toward her, leaping over the wire and tires, outside our almost circle.

  More pixies leave the house. They are all dressed up for some sort of party. The velvet and satin gowns flap in the wind. The tuxedos all seem perfectly tailored. They should be beautiful, but I know what they are. They are not beautiful, because beauty is about grace and love and hope. They are all about need.

  Mrs. Nix takes the last bit of barbed wire out of Devyn's mouth and wraps it around. The circle is complete.

  "Change," Gram orders Nick. "Now."

  A railroad tie falls over. I rush to grab it. My hands try to push it deeper into the cold hard earth. It wobbles, pulling at the pressure of the wires, destabilizing the whole thing.

  "Gram!" I yell. "A little help here."

  She runs to my side. We both force the tie down, using all our body weight to stabilize it. The pixies start chanting, some crazy monotonous words that my head doesn't understand, but my body shudders, chilled and terrified.

  Nick appears at my side, wolf again. His hackles raise. He growls, teeth showing. The muscles in his back tense.

  I press my hand on his side. "No. Stay outside the circle. With me."

  The pixies are still funneling out the door, ignoring the injured one by the steps.

  My mother appears at the doorway. She's wearing a long white gown that has way too much lace on it.

  She starts across the snow, one foot in front of the other. She slips along the side of the house, while the rest come forward, one horrible mass of them.

  The circle wobbles. It has to hold. I grab the tie, try to steady it.

  The wind blows Issie's hair. Her eyes are all terror. She can see it now, obviously. "Zara, back up."

  Then the king strides out. The wind lifts his hair. He glares at us, at his pixies. He knows what we've done. He raises his arms. The chanting becomes louder, evolves into war cries, wild and frenzied, but the pixies themselves are still moving slowly, judging us and the situation, waiting for orders, I think.

  "Can you see him?" I ask Nick, as Devyn lands on his outstretched arm. The talons rest on a special glove so they won't cut through the skin.

  Nick growls.

  Gram says, "They've dropped the glamour. I see them."

  "Don't change," I say. "Okay?"

  She nods.

  The pixie king makes eye contact with Gram. In less than a second he is standing in front of her. He is taller than she is. His eyes have gone silver. Only barbed wire and railroad ties separate them.

  "Tiger?" His face shakes with anger. "You… you did this."

  Gram laughs at him. She laughs at the pixie king like he's nothing. "Naw, I didn't think this up. Your daughter did."

  He turns toward me. Zip-flashes in front of me. His eyes are all silver and liquid like the iron we've surrounded him with. "You've trapped us."

  The white thread that's been around my finger since my dad died breaks off and flits in the wind. It crosses the iron bars and he catches it in his hand. He pinches the thread between his fingers, stares at it.

  Mrs. Nix's bear form swats a pixie man out of the way. She strolls the inner boundary, growling, creating a diversion.

  "Your highness!" one of the pixie women says. Her voice panics in the wind.

  "Do not approach the bear," he orders. "Only in groups of five. Surround it."

  Mrs. Nix stands on her hind legs. Devyn flies to the roof, a wire hanging from his beak. He attaches it to the chimney. A pixie dangles out a second-story window, trying to snatch him. He misses Devyn and roars.

  "The queen, your highness!" the same pixie woman yells.

  The king breaks his glare for the tiniest fraction of a second and looks to see what is going on off to his side. This is where my mother is. I know he sees her about to cross the wire circle. I know, but he doesn't do anything. That's when I realize how trapped he really is, trapped by his nature and his role, trapped by his need. Still, he's making a choice, a kind choice.

  "Your highness!" the pixie repeats. Her blond hair flies wildly in the wind.

  He ignores her, just stares straight into my eyes as Issie helps my mother across the barbed wire. Mrs.

  Nix leaps after her, back to us, back where it's safer.

  Nick thumps his tail against the ground. He and Mrs. Nix guard her, using their bodies as an extra layer of protection.

  "You trapped my mother," I say. "I had to get her free."

  The king stares at me. I stare back. The coldness of him is immense. Nick comes and presses against my side. I stare at my prisoners. I don't know if this is right or not. I don't know if Amnesty International would approve, or if my dad would approve, but it's all I can think to do.

  Another pixie leaps forward, arms open, trying to capture my mother. His tuxedo hits the iron wires first.

  Then he starts to burn. Three other shrieking pixies pull him back. I grab the tie again, trying to stabilize it from the wiggling.

  Nick growls.

  The king finally, publicly, notices that my mother is out, free, walking next to Issie, coming closer to me.

  He roars, "What have you done?"

  I don't answer. My heart beats crazy happy just to see her get across the iron. She's not burned. She's still human.

  "Zara." His voice is measured. "I need her to maintain control."

  "You don't need to be in control. You're all trapped. So there'l
l be no more stealing boys, no more shooting arrows in the woods, getting people lost. It's all over." The metal is cold on my fingers.

  Devyn grabs more wire, starts another flight. A group of pixies leaps for him, screaming, a wild, chaotic mess. They start clawing at each other, lost in fear and hunger, angry. A pixie in a pink dress shrieks when another wearing a black gown lashes at her, slashing through the skin on her arm.

  "Zara?" The king tries to be calm and nice. He tries to look human. It doesn't work. "Do you know what this means? Do you know the power that I'll lose? The need? We will fight in here. We will kill each other."

  "I know," I say and my voice shakes as I stare at him, this man who is in my blood, but not me. He is not me. Still, I understand his need, his fear. He is stuck in this awful place where there is no moral way to move forward. "I'm so sorry."

  And I am.

  I let go of the tie. I turn my back.

  He rushes at me. The moment he moves my mother screams, lunging forward. She can't help. She's too far away. His hands curl around my arms and he pulls me closer to him. His hands and arms are burned and blistered from going over the iron. He's still strong, though. My broken arm jostles. My teeth clench.

  The pain is crazy. Snarls come from my right and left.

  "Stay back, Mom." I yank a fork out of my pocket and jab it into the king's leg. He screams and loses his grip, toppling backward.

  "Get in there," I demand.

  He glares at me. Steam comes from his burning skin.

  My mother stands next to me. She's holding a bread knife. "She means it."

  He stands up and moves back. His face flinches. "You wouldn't."

  "I would do anything for my daughter." She says. Her hand doesn't even shake.

  "In the house," I order. "All of you. Now."

  They turn and move like ants, streaming back into their nest. He is the last one to go inside. He waits.

  I offer him this, "If I can think of something else to do, I'll come back. I promise."

  His head barely moves. His voice is a whisper in the cold, bitter wind, but I can still hear it. "Are your promises like your mother's?"

  "No," I say. "My promises are like mine."

  My mother wraps her arm around my waist. She kisses the side of my head. I'm not sure which of us is trembling more. She doesn't say anything as he shuts the door.