by B. J. Smash
“Hey wait. Just curious. You guys are going to race for the genie bottle right?” the little guy asked.
“We intend to race for the bottle, yes,” Drumm said.
“Seems like a lot of people have come to race for that bottle.” The little guy scanned the small crowd of people that were setting up camp.
“By the way, my name is Tom. Don’t worry about my cousin William. His mam dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” He cleared his throat, “a couple of times. Anyway…it’s nice to meet you folks. Good luck to ya.” He turned and followed after his cousin William.
The whole while, Egbert was making his rounds to each and every person there. He was making a killing with his sales. He handed over a dark glass jar to a mysterious person cloaked in a black robe. I believe that it was a woman, because of her curves, but I couldn’t see her face.
Egbert carried on with his pixie selling, and had reached the next person.
“He sure is selling a lot of pixies,” Drumm said.
“How many people do you suppose there are?” I asked.
“I think I have counted eleven,” Drumm said.
Everyone was finally settling in. Even Solstice was now resting. We decided to call it a night and try to get some sleep. Just as Drumm was about to sit down on the branch below me, a slight cracking sounded above us. He grabbed my leg, “Shhh,” and pointed above us.
“It’s just a bird or a squirrel,” I said looking up into the dark canopy. The sound had barely been audible, even with my elven ears.
He held his finger up to his lips, and motioned for me to be silent. We sat there barely breathing, and didn’t hear another sound. It was only when Drumm started to move again, that we heard another crack.
In one giant leap, Drumm jumped six feet to my limb, and continued to climb at a fast pace disappearing into the upper branches. Out of nowhere, someone called out, “Get your hands off me Light Elf!”
I could have sworn I heard a few punches exchanged, and suddenly a limb cracked in half and two tall bodies were falling from above with great speed. I jumped back out of the way just in time, as they fell onto my limb and snapped it in half. They continued to fall to the ground throwing kicks and punches. When they landed with a loud thud, they wrestled on the ground.
“Hey!” I yelled, jumping down to the ground. “Stop! You’re going to kill each other!”
Everyone that had arrived that night was soon standing around Drumm and the strange man. Some held lanterns, some were shining their flashlights. One guy had a stick on fire as his light source.
“Stop!” I jumped in the middle of them. Sure, it was a bold move—jumping in the middle of a couple of angry males—but it was the only way to gain their attention. The big burly guy named William also intervened, trying to pull the two apart. He got a swift kick to the chest sending him flying into the bushes.
Finally, when they realized I was in the mix, they came to their senses. I only got hit once, by someone’s knee to the face. Luckily, it only gave me a fat lip.
When the two separated, there stood Drumm on one side of me, and on the other…I couldn’t believe my eyes…it was…a Dark Elf. The moment was surreal.
I had heard of the Dark Elven, who practiced the dark arts, but had never gotten the chance to see one. This guy looked very similar to Drumm, but his skin had a bluish tinge to it. He had several scrolling tattoos on his arms and up his neck. His cheekbones were high and he had a thin nose, black eyes and black shoulder length hair.
“What are you doing here?!” Drumm yelled. I’d never heard him yell before. He had always been calm, and collected.
“I am here for the same reason that you are,” the Dark Elf said with a thick accent. He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, smearing it down his wrist.
“Go home! We don’t need your kind here,” Drumm said. I’d never seen him so worked up.
At this point, Egbert Winemaker leaned in and cocked his ear up. I think he was hard of hearing, and he didn’t want to miss anything. I don’t think he recognized me. He held up the pixie lantern, and the pixie inside appeared bored and cooped up. I wondered how long she’d been in the jar.
“I cannot go home. I’ve been given orders to return with the bottle,” the Dark Elf said.
They had a stare down for several seconds and then Drumm said, “You are wasting your time. I will get the bottle first.”
The Dark Elf raised both black brows and said, “Not likely.”
This didn’t settle well with Drumm and he balled his fist up. The little guy who introduced himself as Tom, decided to step in. “Look fellas. It’s past midnight now. We all have to get up soon. We all have the same agenda – we want the damn bottle. So, let’s just call it a night.” Tom then pointed at the Dark Elf, “You should sleep on the opposite side of the woods than this fella right here.” Then he pointed at Drumm.
“I was already trying to sleep. If he didn’t haul me down from the tree, we’d all be sleeping,” the Dark Elf said.
“You were cloaking yourself. Spying on us,” Drumm said.
“I was in the tree first. I’d been there for hours before you arrived,” the Dark Elf explained.
He had a point. He had to have been in that tree first. Albeit, he could have told us he was there, but maybe he had known a fight would happen if he had shown himself.
I grabbed Drumm’s hand and said, “Come on. Just forget it.” I pulled him toward a different tree than before. As we left, I could hear several of the other people talking about how they had no idea that there were any elven here. Someone said, “They are tricky.” Another said, “What do they want with the bottle?” And I heard a female voice say, “Rumor says they are here for Izadora.” Then a silence fell over the crowd, except for one sharp intake of breath. I turned to see Egbert staring after me. He recognized me now.
Drumm and I settled at another tree. Our limbs were closer this time, but I didn’t care anymore. There wasn’t any time for me to hold a grudge. I’d have to be on alert from here on out.
A swift breeze drifted through the forest, and all that could be heard were the rustling leaves above. Everyone had re-settled into their little makeshift camps. Someone had lit a fire and left the embers burning as they lay on a sleeping bag. Even though it was a great distance away, I scrunched my eyes to get a better look. I could tell that it was a woman wrapped up in a black cloak, and she was alone. She must be desperate for the bottle. I had to wonder what was so wrong with her life that she needed to find a djinn.
Gazing around, I saw a strange man leaning up against a tree. He was bald, and around his neck he wore…a snake? I had to do a double-take. Indeed. He had a ball python wrapped around his neck. Drumm saw what I was looking at and he said, “Strange that he’d bring his snake with him. Must be a charmer.”
“What’s a charmer?” I asked.
“He uses his snake to hypnotize people,” Drumm answered.
“What? Why doesn’t he have a basket to keep it in or something?”
“I don’t know,” Drumm said.
I could only imagine what this guy was here for, and why did he feel the need to bring along his snake? Who did he intend to hypnotize?
Then my attention was drawn to a big, rotund man who was rummaging around in his bag. He then held up his newly acquired pixie jar and shook it with such force that the pixie inside must have hit her head a few times.
“Drumm! What is he doing?” I asked.
“He’s trying to make the pixie light up. He must be new to pixies, and he must not know how they work,” Drumm said.
The man was fueling my fire, and my face grew hot with anger. “Why is Egbert going around selling pixies in the first place? And why do you suppose Egbert is here?”
“Egbert is like the ticket master at a circus. Tomorrow he’ll take names. He is just selling his pixies to get money and goods. People want the pixies because they know they contain magic. They know pixie dust is very valuable. They
might not know how to use it, but they still want it.”
If these people didn’t know how to ask the pixies nicely for their dust, then the pixies would never oblige, and they would end up abusing the pixies. The little creatures didn’t know how to escape the jars. Izadora had told me that Egbert put some type of special magical ointment on the rim of the jars so that the pixies could not free themselves.
My stomach began to knot up and feel funny. One of my best friends was a pixie. Pladia, my dear pixie pal had helped me and saved my life. I couldn’t let anyone abuse a pixie. I thought this over for a time, and there was only one thing to do about it: FREE them.
I hopped down onto the limb adjacent to Drumm. He had been meditating, but he immediately said, “Ivy. Where do you think you’re going?”
I wanted to be up front, but he’d probably try and stop me from what I was about to do. So…I lied. “I’m headed to the bathroom. Do you need to hold my hand?” I said with sarcasm.
“No you’re not. You’re about to free the pixies,” he said flatly.
He knew me too well. The fact that he’d just called me out, ticked me off. “So!” I whispered loudly.
“So, I guess I’ll come with you,” he sighed.
This made me smile. I didn’t need him to be my body guard, I could probably take any of these guys out with a few kicks to the head. Or was that my ego talking? Nah…I could probably do it if I had to. Just the same, if Drumm came along we’d be able to release them all.
We walked stealthily through the trees avoiding any twigs or branches that could snap under our feet. Being elven, we were good at remaining unseen. Plus, Izadora and Drumm made me wear dark brown suede pants. I don’t know exactly what they were made of but they were comfortable, and easy to move around in. The reason they insisted that I wear them, was because the pants would protect me from getting unnecessary scratches. They also blended with the forest.
Anyway, we slowly made our way to the first person’s camping area, and Drumm swiped the jar in one movement. I went to the next camp. The person was laying inside a sleeping bag, and sawing lumber with his snoring. It was easy to confiscate the jar from him. We did this eight times. Each time we got ahold of a jar, we’d drop it off deeper in the forest. I would peer into the jars, and hold my finger up to my lips to indicate that I wanted the pixies to be quiet, and they would nod their tiny heads.
Getting the last few jars was a bit tricky but we managed to do it. The last belonged to the man with the snake. Right then and there, I named him Snake Man.
He appeared to have one eye open, but I think he was asleep. The jar sat close by his knees. I ever-so-slowly crept up, all the while the snake eyeballed me. He raised his head and hissed, and I decided to be quick about it. I grabbed the jar and leapt into the forest. The snake began to sliver away from the man’s shoulders, but the man woke up and grumbled something incoherently, and the snake coiled back around his shoulders.
With the last few jars, Drumm and I briskly walked to our designated area and released them all. A couple of them were blondes with sparkling green wings; one was a brunette with pale pink wings. One of them had green hair with silver streaks, and one had black hair with a pink section in the front. They all wore short little dresses of various colors.
A few of them squeaked, “thank you” and took off into the forest. I knew they were from the pixie tree.
The last two remained. The one with black and pink hair, and silver wings, and the one with green hair with silver streaks, and gold wings.
“You must help other pixies,” the green haired pixie said.
“Egbert!” The black haired pixie pointed toward Egbert’s encampment.
Drumm and I looked at each other. It would be more risky, because Egbert was an old wizard. He wasn’t a very good one; regardless, he was one.
We agreed that we would rescue the others, and the two pixie’s waited in the forest. Once we reached Egbert’s encampment—which was a big black tent—Drumm told me to wait outside while he checked it out. It was hard for me to wait. I had no patience for this sort of thing, but I stood there twiddling my thumbs.
It was clear to me that Egbert knew how to carry his belongings around using some sort of magic. When he had arrived, he’d only had the donkey with a few sacks on its back. He had somehow magically popped this tent into a good-sized encampment.
Drumm finally peaked his head out and motioned for me to come in.
The inside of Egbert’s tent had two sections, with a black sheet dividing them. He had to be sleeping on the other side of the sheet. On our side, there were bookshelves, a table covered with papers, and an ink pen in its fountain. On the back side of the tent stood two large cages. Both were large enough to hold a parrot. Tinkling water noises sounded from the back, and it smelled like citrusy perfume.
“He’s sleeping on that side,” Drumm whispered, talking about Egbert.
I nodded my head, and we both walked to the back of the tent. Inside the cage was a waterfall, little pond, and several basketball sized rocks. Green plants hung around the cage, and many beautiful flowers.
A few of the pixies began to awaken, and when they did their wings brightened, lighting up the tent. Amazingly enough, there had to be twenty pixie’s crowded in there, with every hair and wing color.
They were happy to see us and started jabbering, bouncing around the cage.
“Shhhh,” I said, while I unlatched the cage door.
Drumm walked to the next cage and prepared to release the others, but instead he dropped his hand and said, “Ut-oh.”
The next thing we heard was, “Damien wants a cracker. Egbert. Egbert. Egbert. Egbert. Corn. Corn. CORN!”
A red parrot bobbed his head up and down, and he was throwing a fit from hades. His wings flapped up and down and he flew from side to side. Corn was his biggest concern at the moment, and no matter how much we shushed him, he would not stop.
The pixies continued to escape, two by two, out the cage door. And then…there was Egbert. He walked out around the partition and stood there, hands on hips. His long face was scrunched up in disgust and his brow bone—which was uncannily shaped like a monkey’s—was wrinkled up in fury.
“What do you kids think you are doing?” he roared as he tied the sash around his robe.
A few pixies hovered by Drumm, but one of them decided to fly over to me. I thought for sure she was going to hide in my hair, but instead, she flew close to my nose. I had to tilt my head back and cross my eyes to see her. Her face reminded me of a prune, and her hair like silver thread. She lifted her tiny hand, and then proceeded to slap me under the right eye. It stung so badly, I yelled, “Ouch!”
Drumm appeared stupefied, but held the tent door open as the last of the pixie’s escaped out into the night sky. You could see their illuminated wings of every color, get smaller and smaller as they flew away.
I touched beneath my eye expecting to feel a welt, but there was nothing, and soon the stinging subsided.
Turning back to Egbert, I could see that he was livid. After all, we had just set free his life’s work. The pixies were his way of making a living.
“You two are in deep, deep trouble,” he grumped.
And even though I knew Egbert was a lesser wizard than Izadora or Izaill…heck, he was even less experienced than Magella…I knew he was not kidding. Drumm and I were going to have to pay for what we’d just done.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, several of us stood out in the open field. Some people were still putting away their camping supplies. I think they planned on leaving most of their belongings behind. How else would they race with all this stuff?
The sun had just begun to rise, and a light mist lingered around us. The golden rays hit on top of a hill, and were almost blinding. I had to shield my eyes each time I glanced that way.
The turnout for the “race” was overwhelming. Drumm and I had counted twelve groups of people. Some would be racing in pairs, others by thems
elves. The one person that I was truly curious about was no longer here. The woman cloaked from head to toe in a black robe. I hadn’t seen her at all this morning, and my only conclusion was that she’d chickened out. Most of the racers were big men with foul mouths and rough attitudes.
I happened to get a better look at William and Tom this morning, and I was not surprised to see that they appeared more harmless than tough. Tom (the shorter skinny guy) was definitely the boss of William, and William always looked to Tom for guidance. Right now they were putting the saddles back on their two brown horses. Tom was looking over Williams shoulder to make sure that he did everything just right. When he noticed me watching, he waved.
“Good morning! Uh…I never did catch your name,” he called out to me and Drumm. He was too far away to have a conversation with.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched. Drumm started to yell out a response, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of Tom and William. I didn’t want to draw too much attention to us, and I knew that Tom would be asking questions.
When we were standing closer, I said, “My name is Ivy. This is Drumm.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m so glad to meet some elven. Me mam always said that they were real, but I always had my doubts. She’d been out walking in the forest one day; said she’d seen two elven in the forest picking berries. I thought she’d been into the traveling gin,” he snickered, and then explained, “me mam always carries traveling gin.”
“It is nice to meet you, too,” Drumm said politely, as though he’d rehearsed those words a hundred times.
William stood to be almost as tall as Drumm. He certainly was a big fellow. But I realized then that he was harmless. He asked Tom for help with the saddle, and I could tell that he was a tad slow in the head.
“This don’t go there,” William said.
“Yes it does! You try it again,” Tom said.
I also noticed that William certainly loved to be tattooed. Covering his right forearm was a tattoo of the cross, and on his upper arm was an old woman who might possibly be his “mam.” I squinted and found that it indeed was his mother. Below the tattoo, in cursive, was the word, “mam.”
