Harley Merlin 19: Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere

by Bella Forrest

  “Excuse me?” I sank to my knees and tried to get their attention. “Would you be willing to talk now? We need your help with something, and it’s urgent.”

  I might as well have been talking to myself.

  Over the cup of milk, a fight broke out. A trio of pixies squawking and squabbling, trying to pull the cup toward them in a three-way tug of war. Meanwhile, a fourth pixie still swished and swam about in the milk, happy as a clam. Pixies battled for the prime spot atop the milk carton, shoving each other out of the way to get to it. A she-pixie slapped another so hard across the face that he fell to the ground for a moment before shaking his head and getting back up. He tackled her from the top of the carton, and the two of them wound up in the strawberry basket, where they seemed intent on making jam out of what was left.

  “This is useless! They don’t care!” I hissed to Nathan. We were running out of time to save my best friend, and these punks were too busy fighting over milk and strawberries. I wanted to grab them and knock their heads together.

  Instead, I sat back on my haunches and let the frustration wash over me. Bitter tears welled in my eyes, trickling down my cheeks and onto the floor. One of the little ingrates even dared to dip a finger into the small puddle and taste my tears. I would’ve flicked him away, but it wouldn’t help. We’d let them out, and they didn’t give a crap what we wanted.

  Why should they? No one in the Institute cared about what they wanted. They were just returning the favor.

  I was so absorbed in my misery that I didn’t notice the she-pixie I’d first caught finally emerge from her orb, as though she’d been observing the situation. For a moment, she was just a flutter in the corner of my eye. Then, she shot upward to meet with the puzzle-box pixie, who was chomping contentedly on a strawberry. He dropped it the moment he saw the she-pixie, and the two of them hovered there for a moment. Their loud chatter and the falling strawberry drew my attention away from my tears. They jabbed bony fingers at me, babbling animatedly, and performed some less-than-flattering charades. Finally, it seemed they’d made some kind of decision. Both creatures nodded to one another and hurtled to the ground.

  The she-pixie landed by the milk, while the other one landed by the strawberries. There, in a display of pure rage that I could only have described as jaw-dropping, the two pixies set about terrorizing the others into obedience. Slaps, bites, irate shrieks and yelps, and a lot of angry gesturing and shoving. Every so often, the two additions pointed up toward me, their chatter becoming even more incensed, as if they were reprimanding the others for not listening to me.

  Nathan knelt beside me, observing the telling-off of a lifetime. “They have a hierarchy. Fascinating.”

  “What do you mean?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb them. The she-pixie and the one from my bedroom were in the middle of corralling the rest into the center of the floor, right in front of Nathan and me. I didn’t dare laugh, but the others looked so put out, their wings drooping and their heads bowed as they shuffled forward, ashamed and humbled. It was made funnier by the fact that most of them were doused in milk or smothered with strawberries.

  Nathan gestured to the two he’d freed last. “They operate as a group, socially connected to one another. These two are clearly fond of you, and they’re getting the rest to accept you.”

  “They are?” I smiled down at the tiny beasts.

  “It looks like it.”

  Just then, the fearsome she-pixie tiptoed forward and tugged the bottom of Nathan’s tweed jacket. She sniffed it, then beckoned for the others to do the same. He froze, evidently less confident about the pixies’ intentions than he’d been a moment ago. After all twenty-one had done their smell test, the she-pixie patted her chest frantically. Immediately, the whole flock “oohed,” as if they understood something that Nathan and I didn’t. She then pointed to me and chattered loudly, wrapping her arms around herself and grinning manically. The male pixie who’d come out of the puzzle box nodded and copied her movements, getting them to sniff my knees. I’d never felt less comfortable in my life than I did as a gang of pixies took a whiff of me. The pixies “oohed” again when the male pixie beat his chest, smiling proudly.

  “I’m not sure why they’re sniffing us, though.” Nathan chuckled, looking remarkably chipper about this entire thing.

  I smiled, my heart softening like a marshmallow. “They recognize our smell. They’re showing the others that they know us, and we’re not going to hurt them.” I pointed to his tweed jacket. “This is the jacket I wrapped her up in, back in your room, and I’m still wearing the clothes that the ‘poofing’ pixie met me in. That’s why they’re sniffing.”

  The she-pixie muttered something and made a retching sound. Her wrangling colleague nodded and performed his Victoria impression again, before gesturing at us and shaking his head. The other nineteen pixies eyed us with new intrigue, chirruping excitedly amongst themselves. A few of the she-pixies batted their eyelashes at Nathan, pretending to smooth down imaginary lapels the way he’d just done.

  “I think we just made some new friends,” Nathan whispered nervously.

  I giggled, laughter bubbling up the back of my throat. “You’re right. I think we did.”

  At the sound of my joy, the pixies burst into cackles, nudging each other and hopping gleefully from foot to foot. A few of them even scooped the strawberry goop off their faces and offered it to Nathan and me. After we politely declined, they gobbled it up themselves, clearly relieved we hadn’t accepted. But it felt like a good start to a good relationship.

  Now that I had their attention, I stood a chance of getting their help. And that brought me one step closer to finding a way to rescue Genie and the other missing magicals. As terrible ideas went, this might’ve been my best one yet.

  Twenty-Four

  Persie

  With the she-pixie and her male counterpart cracking the whip, I addressed the now-attentive creatures. “Do you know where the missing magicals have gone?”

  Chattering whispers did the rounds, each pixie turning to the next, and the next, until they had formed some kind of collaborative answer for me. But the she-pixie seemed to have taken on the role of spokesperson. She stepped forward and cleared her throat, then began chirruping a mile a minute in high-pitched pixie-speak.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I put up my palms to stop her. “I’m sure what you’re saying is super helpful, but I don’t understand. Can you make it… simpler?”

  The she-pixie rolled her eyes and gave a sarcastic nod.

  My heart leapt. “You know where they were taken?” I paused, realizing I might have jumped the gun. “Or are you saying you can make it simpler?”

  She tilted her head from side to side, which muddied my understanding even more.

  My temper flared, but I had to keep the wheels greased. “Let me ask in a different way. Do you know anything about the missing magicals? Or anything about a magic door?”

  I struggled to suppress the snap in my tone. My friend was waiting for me out there, and I needed to get to her ASAP. I didn’t have time to decipher pixie hijinks, but I also couldn’t do this without them.

  The pixie tapped a slim finger against her chin, then jabbed it in the air as if she’d had a lightbulb moment. She ran into open space and began what could only be described as a mind-boggling interpretive dance—definitely one for the contemporary crowd. Smoothing down her mossy mass of hair, she sauntered a few paces forward and then lifted her head in melodramatic awe. Her black eyes widened until they took up most of her small face, and then she dropped her jaw comedically and released an excited “aaaah.” She switched to a zombie shuffle, her arms trawling sluggishly through the air as if she were trying to catch something. Mimed to perfection, she opened up an imaginary door and stepped inside.

  I might not have understood the rest, but I understood that.

  “There is a magic door?” Nathan’s jaw dropped just as comically as the she-pixie’s had.

  The pixie took a bow
and drank in the rapturous applause of her fellows, clasping her hands together and shaking them from side to side. I added a few lackluster claps, so as not to seem rude. Useful though the charade had been, we really didn’t have time for more amateur dramatics.

  “Can you take us to it?” I failed to disguise the pleading in my voice.

  The she-pixie gestured around and shot me a look that said, “Well, duh. Why else would I have asked everyone what they know?”

  “Point taken.” I smiled apologetically. “Please, guide us there. My friend is one of the people missing, and I need to get her back.”

  The entire squadron of pixies gasped and shook their heads, chattering ominously. I even saw one of them pretend to tie a noose and hang themselves with it. The gesture felt like a knife to the gut. I didn’t need to understand their language to get the picture—if Genie had entered that doorway, then she was obviously in a lot of trouble. All the more reason to get going.

  The she-pixie held up her hands and drew a square shape. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, and she shook her head vehemently, giving one loud, high-pitched squawk that definitely sounded like “NO!”

  “You don’t want us to put you in puzzle boxes?”

  She nodded, repeating the singular squawk.

  I cast a look at Nathan. “What do you say?”

  “I say we let them go free-range. They’re helping us, after all.” Nathan looked pointedly at the assembled crowd. “But you have to stay out of sight. Can you do that?”

  The pixies snorted and puffed out their chests proudly, and a few polished their fingernails against their shoulders: “easy peasy lemon squeezy.” They’d given the hunters the runaround for days without getting spotted, and they had us to help cause any necessary diversions if hunters happened upon us. And why shouldn’t they get to come with us as equals? They were doing us a favor, not the other way around. And the pressure was mounting by the second.

  “Just keep as close as you can, and stay hidden,” I warned. To the she-pixie, I said, “You can lead us there, but don’t take any chances. If you see a hunter, take cover, and only come out again when it’s safe.”

  She lifted her hand to her temple in a salute. No sooner had she done that than the entire crew took off into the air, fluttering all the way up to the ceiling. The she-pixie surged upward last and flew past the others to take her position at the head of the aerial squadron. Once there, she beckoned for Nathan and me to follow before waiting by the closed Repository doors. Nathan and I gave each other an encouraging nod and jumped to our feet, racing across the marble floor. He did the honors of opening the towering doors, and all of us ducked out into the hallway beyond.

  I scoured left and right to make sure there were no hunters around as the pixies blended into the shadows overhead. I glanced up and saw how their colored banding and vibrant wings darkened until they were entirely camouflaged. Now I understood why they’d given everyone hunting them such a headache; like cuttlefish, they could alter their skin to fit their surroundings, making them trickier to find than a needle in a stack of pins. The only one who stayed vaguely visible was the she-pixie, who I decided, then and there, to name Boudicca.

  I’d read about the ancient Iceni queen in the Institute’s entrance hall, on a plaque beside a gold torc, a thick metal necklace, that had belonged to her. A rumored Celtic magical of the Primus Anglicus, she’d led an uprising against the Romans. Like the she-pixie, the original Boudicca was said to have wild hair, a harsh voice, and a piercing glare.

  “Why are you smiling?” Nathan whispered, looking at me as though I’d lost my marbles.

  I pointed up to the leader. “I named her.”

  “Oh?”

  “Boudicca. Queen of the Pixies.” I slowed my pace to match hers as we approached an intersection of hallways. She stopped, looking both directions for the enemy.

  Nathan laughed. “I think she’d like that.”

  “Me too.” I quickened my pace again as Boudicca took a left. Where were we going? There wasn’t anything up there aside from the new wing, which hadn’t been built yet. But I wasn’t about to argue with her. She could sense high concentrations of magic, and I couldn’t.

  Nathan side-eyed me. “Do you think she might have her wires crossed?”

  “I’m not sure. Is there an annex up here that I don’t know about?” I whispered back.

  “There are private studies and offices, and a chapel which has an exit to the back gardens. Maybe that’s where she’s leading us. It would be the quickest way.” He frowned, evidently deep in thought. “I suppose it depends where this doorway is. Did your little birdie happen to mention how far down it was buried beneath the Institute?”

  I shook my head. “My little birdie is never that detailed.”

  The day Leviathan gave me information that wasn’t peppered with gaping holes would be the day his glass box properly froze over again. All he’d told me about the door was to “look into it.” I’d done that, and I’d hardly learned anything. Oh, he must’ve been killing himself with laughter, knowing my only option was to ask the pixies for help, that we’d have to resort to a bevy of hilarious charades to communicate.

  “It’s Leviathan, right?” Nathan asked as we continued to walk, following Boudicca’s fluttering wings. Some of her motley crew were acting up, wiping the last of the strawberry goop off their faces and smearing the jammy blobs across the nearest available canvas—rafters, the tops of the high windows, the wall. I didn’t get to focus on it much, since Nathan had dropped that doozy of a question on me.

  “Huh?” My throat closed up.

  Nathan looked half-excited, half-sorry, an expression he seemed to have perfected. “The little birdie is Leviathan. He gave you this ability, didn’t he?”

  “H-how could you possibly know that?” I blurted out, my hands turning clammy with cold sweat. No one, other than Victoria, was supposed to know where my ability had come from. Chaos, if the rest of the Institute found out… They’d make accusations like the head huntswoman had, claiming I was in cahoots with an ancient monster who wanted to make mankind suffer for centuries of injustice against him and his kind.

  Stop panicking. Even Victoria doesn’t know the part about turning the world into monster paradise or him making me his queen. I served myself a swift reminder of the facts before the stress could take hold and bring on another unwanted Purge. Learning to control my emotions was my best defense against this ability. I needed to stop with the knee-jerk, paranoid reactions, before they got even more out of hand. My cousin Diana would’ve called me a “typical Pisces.” I didn’t necessarily believe in that stuff, but my emotions really did have an iron grip over me. One I’d have to loosen, if I wanted to get ahead of my curse.

  Nathan smiled reassuringly. “Relax. No judgment here, remember?” He gave me a light knock in the arm. “Victoria mentioned it to me, in private, after she caught me trying to catch pixies in the Repository. She hasn’t told anyone else, but she knows about my research into ancient monsters. I think she wondered if I knew of anything that might be helpful to you.”

  My panic turned into a fleeting glimmer of hope. “Do you?”

  “I can only tell you what I told her: that I will look into it, and let you know if I find something worthwhile,” he replied. A few of the pixies at the back of Boudicca’s aerial squadron shoved each other for a better spot in the line-up, earning a sharp hiss from their gutsy leader. I wouldn’t have wanted to get on her bad side, either.

  “Could you maybe tell me before you tell her?” I said. “Give me a grace period, to see if I can do anything with it?”

  “It’s your ability, and your connection to Leviathan. It would be wrong of me to do otherwise. I swear on my integrity as an academic that I will come to you first. After all, you have more insight on this matter than anyone else.”

  “Thank you,” I said, relieved.

  He chuckled softly. “Might I ask a favor in return?”

  “That depends…” I eye
d him curiously. “If you’re going to ask me to set you up on a date with Genie after we’ve got her back safe and sound, I can’t make that sort of promise. I can put in a good word, but it’ll be up to her.”

  He froze mid-step and turned to face me. “A… date?” His cheeks burned beet red. “Chaos help me, have I really been so obvious?”

  I shrugged, smiling.

  “She’s just… intriguing. I’ve never met anyone like her, and nor do I think I’ve ever had anyone keep me on my toes in quite the same fashion. I’m genuinely worried I might end up with some kind of repetitive-strain injury in my feet.” He smacked himself on the forehead, shaking his head at himself. “And now I’ve just gone and babbled all of that to you. That wasn’t even what I was going to ask.”

  “Is it even okay for students and aides to date?” The prospect of a maybe-romance was a welcome distraction from monstrous, worst-case scenarios. I reminded myself that we’d rescue Genie, and everything would be all right again.

  He swallowed audibly. “It is, but that’s really not what I was going to ask.” He looked down at the ground. “I’m just so worried for her welfare… I didn’t mean for all that to come out. Please, I’d appreciate if you forgot I said anything.”

  “Forget you said what?” I gave him a conspiratorial smile to let him know I didn’t plan to breathe a word. Girl code maintained that I would have to, but he didn’t need to stress himself out over that. Besides, we didn’t even have Genie back yet.

  I glanced up and realized that Boudicca had stopped and was waving her hands wildly. And probably had been for a while, judging by her annoyed expression.