Page 31 of Faerie Fate (Fae Academy for Halflings #7)

Chapter Twenty-One

P oppy kept a breakneck pace through town, stopping long enough to barter her strange wooden coins for supplies. Which were hard to come by and cost double what they would have normally.

She told us with painstaking clarity and an eyebrow raise that we were draining her reserves. But we stuck together. She didn’t boot us out on our asses, as she could have done.

I was too tired to ask her why she didn’t.

We were trouble, her cabin was demolished, and a fool’s journey lay ahead.

When she had enough fresh water and supplies for a few days on the road, divided between us in packs she’d also bought, we set off along the rutted dirt road toward the source of the smoke we’d seen in the distance from the cabin.

She scowled at the black billowing smoke. “The further we go, the more worried I get that the smoke is coming from the pixies’ morsana fields,” she muttered. Low enough for only me to hear.

“Please tell me there are more,” I whispered back.

“Yes, but a harder road to travel.”

Mike stared at his feet. His expression was tight, and the further we walked, the deeper the lines of concentration on his forehead. “I don’t get it. I specifically sent us back a week before the war. I considered everything. I knew the risks.”

HIs confusion pushed pins into my heart. “It’s not your fault.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then who else can I blame? I’m the one who worked the time manipulation. I’m the one who miscalculated.”

The reassurances died on the tip of my tongue. There was no good way to spin it around, not even to make Mike feel better. Whatever happened, we were exactly where we shouldn’t be.

“I’m fuzzy on many of the details of the Great Pixie War,” he continued, sniffing. “And those are exactly the kinds of details we need right now to make sure we aren’t about to step into the front lines.”

“Poppy won’t let us go near the front lines.” Out of all of us, Bronwen sounded the surest.

In theory, it should be easy to find the flower and book it back to the future. Theory and reality never held up to my expectations. Nothing about this trip had been easy.

One step forward equaled three steps back. We never got ahead.

“Melia told us that the flower went extinct because the fae targeted and destroyed it during the war,” Bronwen replied. “Right?”

My shoulders slumped forward under the weight of exhaustion as the straps from the pack dug grooves into my skin. “She said it was used for weapons, yeah.”

“Weapons, hell. They use it for everything, but only the pixies are able to wield it. Their magic makes the pods grow. Fae can’t do the same. One of the morsana’s powers is enchanting weapons to hit harder than physics allows. And those enchanted weapons never miss their marks,” Poppy said.

“They never miss?” Mike asked.

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Poppy growled. “Need me to pop you on the head for not paying attention?”

“How do the pixies work the enchantment using the flower?” Mike pressed. “Seems like it would be complicated to introduce into weaponry once its grown?—”

“There’s nothing complicated about it.” Poppy pursed her lips. “The crushed petals produce a powder when introduced to a specific word of power, and when the powder is ground into the metal of the weapons during forging, it imbues them with the power. It’s an alchemical change.”

“No wonder they got rid of it. No one can beat unbeatable weapons. The fae would never be able to overpower the pixies,” Bronwen added.

“Yeah, just like they get rid of half-breeds because we aren’t like them.”

The snark came naturally. King Tywin had introduced the portals between realms so that he could control who came and went from Faerie to the mortal realm and vice versa. The keys were his way of ensuring that only those people he approved of had access to his world.

The reason why my uncle died.

The fury was fresh and felt so much better than the hopelessness. I kept my gaze trained on the smoke in the distance as the road rolled over hills and through shallow valleys.

Tywin might be Mike’s father, but he was a tyrant who’d had a grudge against me from the second I came to his realm, all under the guise of doing me a favor. He’d forced me to live in the castle, gave me a job in the kitchen, allowed me to attend the Elite Academy…

All of it came down to his need to control what he found suspicious because I was different. His reign began sometime around this time. I remembered reading that. Mike said his grandfather ruled during the time of the Great Pixie War but died on the front lines, then Tywin took over.

“How much further do we have to go?” Bronwen was asking Poppy when I finally pried myself free of the anger.

“We’ll find someplace safe to camp for the night and rest,” Poppy answered. She refused to slow her strides, proving to everyone, herself included, that the earthquake hadn’t fazed her. “We should reach the border of the pixie territory in the morning.”

Mike worked his arms to keep up with her. “I didn’t realize you were so close to the border.”

“Because in your time, there is no pixie territory. There’s only one united Faerie for the fae. Am I right?”

Her sarcasm shut him up.

We ended up not stopping. Not when we were close enough that our silent consensus was to push through.

None of us dared give in to the fatigue.

Even Bronwen, whose nose slowly healed itself during the hike, agreed.

Stopping meant adding hours to our journey, time that none of us were prepared to waste. Time was our most precious currency.

Noren took up the bulk of my weight as we pushed forward. The sun arched lower in the sky and by the time the border swam into view, tinges of purple laced the peach-hued dome overhead.

“There.” Poppy pointed. “The edge of the pixie lands.”

“Why does it look like it’s on fire?” Bronwen wanted to know.

Her expression sobered. “Because it is.”

The border was engulfed in flames. Sparks erupted in frantic waves, but when we got closer, my eyes widened in shock. Not sparks.

Dozens of pixies flew around the fire and smoke with buckets of water to try and douse the flames. It was clearly a lost cause.

A moan built inside me. All those poor pixies, scrambling to avoid absolute devastation. Were the fae still around after their attack? There was no sign of them.

Bronwen’s eyes widened. “We need to help them!”

“Wait. They’re not using magic.” The pixies carried water in their inch-sized hands, their strength fantastical. “Why not?”

Mike dropped his pack and took a step forward before Poppy grabbed him by the elbow to stop him.

“Pixies are from the earth. They are not masters of the four elements like the fae. They specialize in earth, as you were told, which makes them such excellent stewards of the land,” she said.

“For all their magical gifts, they have no more control over fire or water than ordinary humans. So they do it the old-fashioned way.”

Like humans.

Poppy turned to glare at Bronwen. “Before you offer to help again, remember what I told you earlier.”

Bronwen glared right back. “I wasn’t going to suggest it again.”

But we shared the same thought and when my eyes snagged with Bronwen’s, I had to bite down on the inherent need to assist.

It shredded a piece of me to watch the pixies struggle against what looked like a wall of fire, hot enough for me to feel the burn even from where we stood.

“If the fire spreads, then there won’t be any flowers left. What do we do then?” I turned to Poppy.

She brushed me off. “Let’s not worry about it yet. We’ll meet with my friend and if anything, she can point us in the right direction to get the morsana. The pixies have this handled.”

No interference .

It hurt to walk away.

Poppy turned off the main road and into the woods surrounding the border of the field. The trees were lit like sparklers, the flames ravenous. A small thoroughfare led to the main pixie compound, she said.

“This place is called Twilight’s Orchard,” she explained as we walked. “Most of the pixie farms have names known to the locals.”

The cute title brought with it a feeling of safety.

I limped after her. “And you’re sure your friend will be here?”

“Tavi, if I weren’t sure, I wouldn’t have brought you here. Rest assured, my friend will not only be at the heart of the farm, but will be pleased as punch to see me.”

Poppy was less than pleased to have to correct me so I zipped my lips rather than argue. Twilight’s Orchard was probably a lovely place without the fire. It felt good here, peaceful. The kind of cottage aesthetic that people my age made their entire identity.

It reminded me of Elfwaite. She had been one of my best friends back in the mortal realm, there for me when I felt alone even in the middle of the pack. This would be nothing.

Just like a visit with friends.

The road forked away from the fire. There were fewer pixies here but a lot less chaos from the earthquake as well.

“I’ve never met a pixie before,” Bronwen said to me. “What are they like?”

I’d told her a little bit about Elfwaite, and when I smiled now, it was genuine. “The one I know is super kind. She never judged me when I went to her to complain as a child. Hopefully these pixies are just the same.”

Bronwen bobbed her head decisively. “I hope you’re right.”

“There’s no need to be worried.”

“No need? I stay in a perpetual state of worry now,” she admitted, her face ashen. “There’s no changing my mind.”

The path turned abruptly, heading into the orchard where globes of fruit like grapes hung from thick old-growth vines. The vines looped around trellises, magically held in place. This far from the fire, the woods dulled the crackle of flames, and birds chirped somewhere nearby.

“Are you sure this is the way?” The trail headed away from the morsana fields. Pretty though it was, it wasn’t as if I wanted to take a nice leisurely stroll through the orchard.