Pinehurst

by Nicole Grane

  Chapter 13

  “What are we supposed to be doing again?” Iris propped her head in her hands, her eyes fixated on the angry little face staring back at her.

  I glanced around nervously. We were smack in the center of Ms. Powell’s Fundamentals of Magic Class, surrounded by demons from hell. Well, surrounded might be an exaggeration. We were put into pairs and each one of us looked at our assignments with pale and extremely panicked expressions.

  “We’re supposed to offer it something in trade for a secret,” I said. “They’re like little fortune tellers. Ask it anything you want to know, but be prepared to pay for it.” My dad had told me stories about pixies when I was little. He said they are ruthless, cunning, and greedy. But, they hold great knowledge . . . and are happy to share it . . . for a price.

  “I thought pixies were supposed to be cute and sweet.” The little beast stuck her tongue out at Iris. Iris huffed in disbelief. “Did you see that?”

  A high-pitched scream from across the room diverted my attention. Christina and Marissa, AKA Stacy’s Witch Squad, were in the process of removing one of the little devils from Christina’s hair. It was yanking out tufts of dingy blonde and tossing them to the floor.

  I turned back to our assignment and found it was grinning. A large lump formed in my throat. Suddenly, “playing” with a Ragno didn’t sound so bad.

  Iris leaned toward me. “They’re not very nice, are they?” she stated the obvious.

  I stiffened. “Quiet. She’s listening to you. You’ll hurt her feelings.” I glanced back at Christina, who was still wailing and slightly balder looking. Ms. Powell had joined in the efforts to untangle the little menace.

  Iris nudged my arm. “Maybe we can offer ours a hair brush?”

  That earned us a hiss. The pixie was glowering at us, shaking its little fists wildly.

  “I think she likes her hair the way it is, Iris.” I scooted my chair back slightly. This little ball of fury could erupt at any moment.

  “Maybe she doesn’t have such things,” Iris whispered into my ear. Her eyes, still fixed on the demon from Hell.

  I thought about that. An idea struck me. I reached for my purse and dug through it. I pulled out a silver barrette embellished with crystals.

  The little beast’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. I tilted the barrette this way and that, letting the light reflect off the stones. The pixie stuck her tongue out and licked her lips. She wanted it. Bad!

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Just like you.” I nearly choked on the lie! The little beast was as ugly as sin, but whatever. I had a question to ask, one that had been weighing on my mind since the other day. Antonio had implied something and who better to ask than a fortuneteller?

  “This would look lovely in your hair,” I lied, continuing to bait the hook.

  The pixie stood up. She was only five inches tall, but from what I’d just witnessed with Christina’s, they could pack quite a punch. I had to tread lightly.

  “I’d like to offer you this,” I tilted the barrette again, allowing the light to touch it. Rainbows danced on my desk, and on the walls around us. Her black little eyes gleamed with excitement.

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “It spoke!” Iris gasped.

  It spoke. Not a deep raspy voice like you might have expected from such a nasty looking creature, but a high soprano; a siren’s call. No wonder the pixie is one of the most feared creatures in the Underworld. They could, and did, lure unsuspecting Mageia to their death. Hell, they were freaking neighbors with the Lord of the Underworld himself! He probably had them over for weekend barbeques!

  “Anything?” I questioned. I’d have to be careful not to let her trick me.

  She smiled a wicked smile. “Anything.”

  I tilted the barrette between my fingers, watching her eyes all the while. I could see the desperation in them. She could barely stand it.

  “Alright. Why must I go to the Underworld?”

  Iris choked beside me. “Evie!”

  The pixie’s grin stretched across her face. “Smart one you are,” it sang. “You will go willingly into Hell. The love for your father will bring you.”

  My heart stilled. What did she mean the love for my father would bring me? What did he have to do with me taking a trip south? “You’re lying!” I accused her. Although I knew she spoke the truth. I could hear it in her voice. The indisputable ring of truth, that coated the words of a pixie. Ironic! They looked like the most-untrustworthy creatures ever to darken the planet.

  “A pixie never lies! Especially when making a trade,” it hissed insulted by the suggestion. “You will go willingly into Hell,” she repeated insistently. “The love for your father will bring you.”

  I handed her the clip.

  The pixie snatched it greedily and placed it in her hair before strutting across our tabletop, like a runway model. The other female pixies stared at her with envy—she basked in it.

  I however, tried not to stare at the oversized bling perched on her head. She looked ridiculous. It looked more like a giant tiara than a dainty barrette.

  “I am feeling generous today.” She turned and faced me once again. “I will allow you to ask me one other question.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. Was this a trick?

  “No payment will be expected,” she explained seeing my hesitation.

  Alright, here goes: “Will I return . . . with my father . . . the both of us, alive?” I had no idea why I was playing along. Of course it was ridiculous. There was no way my dad was hanging out in the Underworld waiting for sixteen-year-old Evelyn Hollyander to rescue him. The very idea was crazy. So why did I dread her answer?

  “Evie, I don’t understand why . . .” Iris’s voice seemed to drift off. My focus was on the pixie before me.

  “He will not let you go . . . Child of Light.”

  What in the hell was she talking about, a “Child of Light?” “Who won’t let me go?” And why was she calling me the “Child of Light?”

  The pixie grinned. “Ah, but that was not the question I am to answer.”

  “So it isn’t.” My eyes narrowed at the sneaky little bugger. Yeah? Well, I could be sneaky too.

  “Alright then, will the ‘Child of Light’ return with my father?” Two questions in one: Who was this Child of Light? And, if it is in fact me, then would I rescue my dad from Hell? I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.

  The pixie suddenly looked uncertain. “That has not been decided yet.” Her head tilted to the side, her eyes searching me . . . for what I didn’t know.

  “What do you mean it hasn’t been decided yet? I thought pixies knew everything?

  That earned me a smile; and apparently a reward: “A Child of Light is a key. It opens the gates so demons may be free.”

  Crap! That wasn’t the answer I’d been looking for. In fact, it screamed no! As in I would not be returning from Hell! My dad! I jumped to my feet. “I have to go.” I gathered my things, tossing them into my pack.

  “Evie, what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry Iris, I’ll explain later.”

  “Miss Hollyander?”

  “I’m sorry Ms. Powell, I’m not feeling well. I have to go.”

  “Farewell . . . Child of Light.” The little pixie waved after me. “Until we meet again.”

  I shuddered. I knew it was a cliché, but I felt as though someone had just walked over my grave.

  I rushed out the door. There was only one person I needed to talk to right now. I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell phone and dialed. “Come on . . . answer!” Damn! Why wasn’t my dad picking up? He was not in Hell! I growled mentally. No way! I closed the phone for a moment before I thought to call Miles. I flipped it open again and hit speed-dial.

  “Miles! Where’s my father?” I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I got right to the point. I listened quietly for what seemed like ages.

  “How long has he been gone?” The lump in m
y throat had grown to the size of a baseball. I could hear the uneasiness in his voice. Very un-Miles like. He was attempting to comfort me when I snapped my phone shut. I didn’t even remember saying goodbye to him.

  My dad was missing. Miles hadn’t heard from him in over a week. This was so not good. Miles was my dad’s right hand man. If he didn’t know where he was . . . no one did.

  But, that wasn’t exactly true. That little pixie piece-of-crap knew where he was. And Antonio! He was the one to first hint that I would be heading into the Underworld in the first place. Did he know my dad was missing too and didn’t tell me?

  “Miss. Hollyander?”

  I spun around. Ms. Leech was standing in front of me, her violet eyes tight with concern. Violet? Weird. I thought her eyes were brown?

  “Excuse me Ms. Leech, but I have to go.” I tried to maneuver around her but she stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

  “What seems to be the trouble Miss. Hollyander?” Her words were soft and even, almost soothing.

  “My dad—”

  “Is fine,” she insisted calmly. “Your dad . . . is fine.”

  “He is?”

  “Of course,” Ms. Leech assured with a smile. Smile?

  “But the pixie said—”

  “There is no pixie.” The words, more hypnotic now, felt indisputable. “Why don’t you run along now, Miss Hollyander? All is fine.”

  “All is fine,” I repeated the words mentally and headed off to Biology. Not a care in the world . . .