by Cece Rose
I pick at the grass by my feet, just throwing it back on to the ground aimlessly. I might as well walk around the garden and move a little. I’m turning into a sofa sloth now, constantly just sitting around reading Callan’s boring old books, trying to work out why I have magic. And when I’m not reading, I’m moping. I’m earning the Moany-Mona title Nick gave me for sure. I stand and stretch feeling my back click as I do. I was definitely sat hunched over for too long.
I wander through the garden, sticking to the edges of the large space. All along the left edge of the garden are various strange plants and herbs growing. I assume they must belong to Kaden or Callan. I find it a little odd that so many plants are managing to grow in the winter, but I suppose with a little magic anything is possible.
Something catches my eye. Lying face down on a bed of flowers is what appears to be a small, winged doll. I wonder where that could have come from? I reach down to pick it up and drop it only an inch off the ground when I feel warm skin and not plastic as I was expecting. I stare at the unmoving form for a second, convinced I must have imagined it. I slowly bend back down and lift the tiny winged doll up, turning it over in my hands.
She has pale skin, flecked with small, colourful scales across her tiny face and arms. Her blonde hair is braided and entwined with glittering threads of material. She’s wearing tight leather-like leggings, and a long, floaty, backless green shirt. I watch the almost unnoticeable, but definitely there, rise and fall of the not-a-doll’s chest. It’s a tiny little fairy! She’s so tiny, delicate, and pretty, just sleeping in my hands. Why hasn’t she woken up?
“Hello? Little fairy thing?” I ask it quietly. I gently nudge its shoulder with one hand, while holding it in the other. Nothing. “Hello, can you wake up? Can you hear me?” I ask, nudging her again. Only the slight rise and fall of her chest and the warmth radiating off her convinces me that she is alive. Maybe she needs help? I carry her back toward the house, moving as fast as I can.
“Nick?” I shout as I walk back into the house. No answer. “Nicky!” I shout even louder, and then flinch looking down at the fairy-like creature in my hands hoping that I haven’t hurt the tiny creature’s ears.
“What do you want?” he shouts down the stairs.
“I need your help; hurry up and get your ass down here!” I shout, heading into the kitchen. I lay the fairy down onto the breakfast bar carefully, and tap my foot impatiently on the ground. Nick eventually saunters in, clearly in no rush.
“What do you want now?” he asks me.
“I found a fairy in the garden and I think something is wrong with it,” I reply, ignoring his annoyed tone.
“I highly doubt you found a fairy in the garden. I told you, we prefer fae anyway. Where is this fae?” he asks, walking right past the breakfast bar. I grab his arm and pull him back, turning him to face the tiny fairy.
“How the hell did you find a dragon pixie?” he exclaims.
“A dragon pixie?” I ask.
“Yes, look here,” he says, gently running a finger over the scales on her delicate face. “Dragon pixies are the rarest of the pixie clans. Pretty much thought of as extinct in this realm, and they only have one small clan left in the fae realm,” he explains.
“Well, clearly not so extinct,” I reply. “What’s wrong with her, she won’t wake up?”
“It’s freezing outside,” he answers. “Pixies like warmer climates, especially dragon pixies. Why the hell would one be here?” he mutters.
“Can you help her? Maybe one of Kaden’s healing vials would do it?” I ask.
“No,” he answers, shaking his head and giving me a firm look.
“What do you mean no?” I snap.
“One, Kaden’s vial wouldn’t work, she’s too tiny to consume the amount needed to help her. Two, dragon pixies are the most vicious of their kind, she would only attack us.” I stifle a laugh. Vicious? She’s freaking eight inches tall!
“You can’t be serious,” I mutter, looking at him incredulously.
“Deadly,” he replies, not an ounce of humour in his serious tone.
“Fix her! She’s tiny, vicious or not, I think we can handle an eight-inch pixie,” I say, rolling my eyes at his ridiculousness.
“I’m not doing it,” he replies, crossing his arms across his chest, his emerald-green eyes narrowed on me.
“Fine, I’ll call Kaden, I know that he’ll help me,” I mutter, pulling out my phone.
“Kaden is only good at healing with potions, all of which require time to make, and he likely wouldn’t be able to make a small enough dose with her tiny size in mind. She doesn’t have the time, Mona, just let it go,” he says.
“Well, at least Kaden wouldn’t be afraid of an eight-inch fairy,” I snap, opening up Kaden’s contact number on my phone. I see Nick’s eyes narrow more.
“Fine, I’ll try. But when you end up attacked by the thing, I reserve the right to jump out, and then come back later and tell you I told you so,” he mutters. I shove my phone back into my pocket.
“Sure thing, Nicky. Now get to work and save that dragon fairy,” I reply happily.
“Pixie,” he corrects, frowning at me. Clearly not happy having the tiny creature lumped in the same species bracket as him.
Nick pulls off the ring he always wears and places it on the breakfast bar, above the pixie's head. Holding his hands out above the pixie, he closes his eyes in concentration. I stand watching him silently.
After about a minute of watching nothing happen, I pull out a chair and take a seat, the chair scraping against the floor as I pull it out. Nick opens his eyes to glare at me before closing them again, his face screwing up in concentration. I hold in laughter at the expression. He really looks like he’s about to sneeze or something.
“Are you even doing anything?” I whisper, after watching for another minute or so and seeing nothing happen.
“Shut up, Mona,” he says through gritted teeth, without opening his eyes, or moving his hands from their position over the tiny pixie. The pixie begins to shake, trembling against the table. I lean forward trying to get a better look.
A soft glow emits from Nick’s hands, and that same glow slowly takes over the pixie. The glow is golden streaked with orange, reminding me of a sunset. I look at Nick’s hands and notice they’re shaking too, the tremors in time with the pixie’s movement. The pixie begins to emit a dust from her trembling wings, scattering it across the top of the breakfast table.
The pixie’s eyes fly open, her bright, blue eyes are almost white they’re so pale in colour. She turns those eyes on me, and Nick drops his hands while stepping back cautiously.
“Hello?” I say softly, not wanting to startle her. When she doesn't respond and only looks at me curiously, I turn to Nick. “Do Pixies understand English?”
“They can, it just depends on what languages she speaks,” he replies, taking another step back as the pixie moves into a sitting position.
What a baby, the pixie is adorable. I roll my eyes at his ridiculousness and scoot closer to the table on my seat. I point at myself.
“Mona. My name is Mona.” She tilts her head to the side curiously. I point again to myself. “Mona.” I point towards her. “What’s your—OUCH!” I pull my hand back, but it’s no use, the pixie has latched on with her teeth. Sharp, pointy, fang-like teeth. What the hell!
I shake my hand and thankfully the pixie lets go, she flies around the kitchen, dust sprinkling off her wings and scattering around madly. Are pixies always that messy?
“Fuck,” I exclaim, clutching my hand to my chest.
“Come on,” Nick mutters. He grabs my arm, tugging me closer as he curves an arm around me. The pressure hurts my head, and I close my eyes as the pop sounds. My feet hit the floor and I open my eyes, surprised I didn’t pass out. I look around. Kaden’s room? He only jumped us up-freaking-stairs?
“We could have walked up the stairs,” I say softly.
“And have the damned pixie follow us? No way. I
f we’re lucky she will let herself out the open window while we are gone.”
“And why Kaden’s room?” I question, taking a seat on the edge of Kaden’s bed, feeling the soft, dark green sheets sink down underneath me.
“Because you’re bleeding, and healing with magic is exhausting. I figured you could use one of Kaden’s potions, rather than me having to heal you,” he mutters, walking over to the shelves. He scans his eyes over the vials and jars until he spots the familiar looking brown murky substance. He pulls one of the six vials with that liquid off the shelf and brings it over to me. “Drink,” he instructs.
I go to take the vial, and then realise that the outstretched hand of mine is the one that was just bitten. The blood has already stopped. I pull my hand back and inspect it seeing that the bite already looks like it has been healed. Only faint teeth marks remain.
“Mona?” he questions, noticing I haven’t taken the vial from him.
“I don’t need it,” I answer pulling my hand back against my chest. He snatches my hand regardless and inspects it, taking no care to be gentle as he turns my hand over in his own.
“But, I just saw this, and you were bleeding. Did you heal yourself? How?” he asks quickly, almost demandingly.
“Maybe, I guess I must have, but I didn’t try to. I didn’t even realise it had healed,” I reply. “Is that a bad thing?” I ask. The look on his face says it all. I’m a freak. This isn’t normal. It must mean… I’m one of them. He swallows and his grip on my hand softens. He rubs his thumb across my palm gently in a soothing circular motion.
“Breathe, Mona,” he says gently. My arm is trembling. I look at my other hand. Fuck, all of me is shaking. He takes a seat next to me on the bed, not letting go of my hand. “Breathe, relax. This isn’t what you’re worrying it is,” he says, giving me a knowing look. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day, I was just being an ass. You’re nothing like a demon, Mona.”
“But,” I begin.
“But nothing. You’re whiny, you have tiny midget legs that really aren’t made for running, you’re sarcastic, you are rubbish with dinner guests,” he says.
“What kind of pep-talk is this?” I ask, half-jokingly.
“It’s not one. You’re an annoying, moany thing, but you are not a demon. You’re not cruel or evil, is my point,” he says.
“My hand…it healed itself. What species can do that?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. That's the only explanation. I’m more demon. I’m a monster, just like the one who—No. Not thinking about that. I mentally push my boundaries back up. I’m not ready for it. It just hurts too much.
“That fast? Demons can,” he admits begrudgingly. Dread pools inside of me. “But they are not the only ones that can. Maybe there’s something else in you. I don’t know what could mix with a demon, but there are some rare species out there, some more secretive. It would make sense, actually. I’ve been thinking about it, you’re definitely not a full demon, and halflings don’t have magic, so it just makes sense that you could be mixed with something else,” he explains.
“You really think so?” I ask softly.
“Yes. And this could be from whatever creature that is, don’t label yourself a monster yet,” he replies taking hold of my other hand. I look up into his eyes seeing the truth in them.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Feeling reassured, knowing Nick would never coddle me or lie to me. He’s always been honest, painfully so.
“Damn, Nick. On my bed of all places, really?” a familiar voice booms from the doorway. Our heads both move at once in perfect motion to face Kaden. He’s leaning against the doorframe giving us both a look I can’t quite decipher. Nick releases my hands as if they burn his skin where they touch.
“Mona was hurt, I was just giving her one of your vials,” he says, standing up.
“Uh-huh,” Kaden says, a smirk taking over his face. “Whatever you say. You guys should probably come downstairs, though, as there’s something destroying the kitchen. If Cal comes home and see it the way it is, we’re all gonna be in trouble,” he adds.
“I guess it didn’t leave through the window,” I mutter.
“That was rather hopeful of me,” Nick replies, giving me a small smile.
“What is it you’re talking about?” Kaden asks.
“A pixie, but don’t believe its cute face, it’s so vicious, it actually bit me!” I complain, holding up my hand to show Kaden the faint bite mark.
“That’s healed nicely,” he comments.
“Yep, your vials are the best, even if they do look like unicorn shit,” I answer, shooting Nick a look. Just because Nick isn’t going to assume it makes me more demon, doesn’t mean the others won’t. I try to convey with my eyes that I’m not ready for him to know. Nick nods subtly. I don’t know where the vial he took from the shelf has gone, but it’s out of sight. Thieves hands are good for something.
“I’m glad,” Kaden replies. “But unicorn shit? Really? First the pyjamas and now this,” he says shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go sort out the damn pixie. I’m sure the three of us can take on a pixie.”
“It’s a dragon pixie,” Nick says as we head out of the room. Kaden freezes.
“A dragon pixie, are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, tiny red scales on her face and everything,” Nick answers.
“Aren’t their bites…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Never mind, come on, let’s kick the pixie out the house.”
I follow the two men downstairs, quietly wondering what Kaden had been about to say.
We're all hiding behind the table. A 6'5 elf that's built like a wrestler, a tough fae thief, and me, Mona the halfling with magic, reduced to hiding behind a table from an eight-inch pixie. It would probably be funny if it wasn't happening to us. I poke my head over the table to try and spot where the pixie has gone, a bowl shoots in the direction of my head. I freeze, watching as it hurtles towards me. A hand pulls me down and out of the way. Shit.
“Damn it, Mona!” Nick curses.
“Shut it, I was freaked. Her aim is freakishly good,” I mutter.
“I told you helping her was a bad idea,” he grumbles.
“Angel, I’m with Nick here, why did you have to go all good Samaritan on us?” Kaden questions groaning in frustration. He tries to peek over the table too, and then has to drop back down to avoid a fork. The fork clashes against the wall behind us, clanging as it hits the floor just after.
“Maybe we can reason with her?” I say softly. Nick and Kaden look at each other and laugh.
“Cute, M, reason with the dragon pixie hurtling things at our heads,” Kaden says, trying to contain more laughter as he looks at the indignant look on my face.
“We can’t even spell the damn thing,” Nick mutters.
“Why not?” I ask, confused.
“Dragon pixies are endangered, we can’t risk killing the thing. Choosing not to save the pixie, and killing the thing yourself are different things,” he explains.
“No, they’re not. People just tell themselves that to save a guilty conscious,” I mutter. Fuck it. I have to try. I dart out from behind the table and put my hands in the air.
“I come in peace,” I yell across the kitchen. A plate flies at my head and I only just manage to sidestep it, when a spoon comes at me on the other side. Again, I move to dodge. “Please, dragon pixie person, listen to me,” I say while ducking to avoid more cutlery. I can hear Kaden and Nick’s laughter from where they are watching me behind the table. “We just wanted to help you. You were unconscious, we healed you,” I insist as I move to avoid a spatula, it catches the side of my shoulder. Ouch. “Listen to me, you stupid little pixie!” I yell, losing my composure.
“Stupid?” a high-pitched voice squeals. Shit, the bit she chooses to listen to is the insult, go figure.
“Sorry, sorry!” I say waving my hands to get her attention away from the various kitchen objects she is fluttering over, probably deciding which thing to throw at my
head next. “I just want you to listen, I’m not trying to hurt you! My friend Nick healed you, and now you’re free to go,” I say, gesturing to open window.
“Free to go?” she says as she’s fluttering down to land on the kitchen counter.
“Yes, free to go. We won’t stop you,” I explain, relaxing slightly where I stand.
“Tis too cold for me to leave,” she says, her high-pitched voice making me cringe slightly. “You must leave!” she demands, placing her tiny little hands on her hips. “I have won the den, this is my victory.” I glance across at Kaden and Nick. Nick just shrugs, and Kaden is too busy laughing to help me.
“It doesn’t work like that, our friend owns the house,” I explain.
“I won it!” she insists.
“You can’t win a house,” I reply.
“It’s a pixie’s right! We win our lands through war,” she replies.
“That may be how it works where you come from, but not here. What’s your name?” I ask.
“Abbithalia,” she huffs.
“Abbi—You know what, I’m not even going to try. Abby? That’s better. Okay, Abby, it doesn’t work like that here. You can’t just take over someone’s house, they own it. They paid for it,” I explain.
“Whatever silly rules you big people have here, I don’t care. If I go back outside I will freeze!” she says narrowing her blue eyes on me.
“Why don’t you stay then, as our guest, not as someone taking over? I don’t want you to freeze, Abby, but we can’t leave our home,” I say, hoping the guys won’t mind. I mean, she’s not exactly going to take up much space.
“A truce?” she asks softly.
“Err…yeah, a truce?” I reply unsurely. She takes off from the kitchen counter and flies toward me.
“Put your hand out,” she demands, fluttering around my head. I brush the dust she left on my shoulders off, and then stick a hand out. “Palm up,” she corrects. I turn it over and she lands on it gently.
