Page 35 of Faerie Fate (Fae Academy for Halflings #7)
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he pixie jolted at my outburst.
But…no. At first glance, I’d thought it was my friend, the similarities between the two eerily familiar, until my attention snagged on minor differences.
For one, this pixie was nearing the end of a pregnancy, her tiny belly swollen. As far as I knew, Elfwaite wasn’t a mom. Unless there were secrets we’d kept from each other.
She was one of the few beings in existence who knew almost all of mine.
This pixie was around the same age but in addition to the belly, her nose upturned slightly. Her skin was a richer shade of magenta, and instead of one set of wings, she had two, beating in tandem to keep her midair.
“Excuse me?” she asked in a bell-like voice. “What did you call me?”
“It’s nothing. You’ll have to ignore her. Elfhame, as you can see, I’ve got some kids with me who need assistance,” Poppy added. Her expression stayed neutral but her eyes immediately admonished me for not being able to bite my tongue.
We needed to make a good impression.
Elfhame’s hands rested on her belly, her jewel-toned eyes inspecting us. “A witch, a royal, a shifter, a direwolf, and…you.” Her gaze landed on me. “You bring an odd assortment to my home, Poppy.”
“Yeah, I do. Now, shall we?”
It bordered on rudeness. Still, Elfhame stepped aside. “Yes, please come in.”
Mike paused and I didn’t blame him. “How are we supposed to fit inside a dollhouse?”
Poppy simply stepped forward, her features fixed into a sly smile, and she immediately shrank. Her limbs twisted until a two-inch version of the witch disappeared inside the house.
“Damn, that’s some strong magic I haven’t seen before.” Bronwen gawked at the opening and sniffed, drawing fresh tracks of blood over her chin. “Let’s be serious, we don’t know a whole lot about pixies.”
Mike steeled himself as we followed Poppy, shrinking the moment we passed over the threshold. A strange constricting sensation compressed my body, folding the pieces of me over and over until the room seemed normal-sized.
Only it wasn’t, and neither were we.
Mike set me gently on my feet and held me there until he was sure I’d stay steady on my own. I rubbed the feeling back into my cheeks. “That’s some crazy magic,” he agreed in a whisper.
Elfhame was now the size of a regular human to us. This close, and without the corona of power I was used to seeing around Elfwaite, the pixie’s features were clear and pretty.
Soft violet hair touched the tips of bony shoulders in gentle waves. The gown flowed in layers of silk, allowing movement for her wings, as her hands circled the baby bump. She smiled at Poppy, who practically threw herself on the couch, then set her gaze on me.
“Oh, you poor thing. You’re in a terrible state, aren’t you?” She swept out an arm. “Place her on the couch and I’ll look over her injuries. Poppy, seriously? Move.”
Clearly the two had a decent relationship. Elfhame ordered, and Poppy groused but did as asked.
“Got herself changed into some crazy form,” Poppy said as she rolled into standing and automatically flopped onto the nearest available seat. “Damndest thing. Weapon I haven’t seen before. Took us a good hour to get the pieces of her back together again.”
Mike helped me over to the couch and propped the cushions behind my back, forming a pillowy wall.
Elfhame perched beside me and her touch cooled the heat in my cheeks. “What kind of crazy form? Tell me everything.”
Poppy explained the situation, or at least as much as she understood. “I don’t have the magic to fix shifter power disruptions,” she finished with a huff. “We gathered all the pieces and she changed back but she needs more than I’m able to provide. It’s strange magic.”
Elfhame ran a hand over my forehead. Her touch remained gentle but her skin was cool to the touch where I felt like I was burning up.
“Indeed, it’s strange,” she agreed. She blinked and her pupils expanded as her gaze went distant. “I’ve never felt magic like hers before.”
From the blood curse to the lost soul pieces, I was a wreck. I guess I’d needed to hear Poppy spell it out from start to finish to understand just what kind of shitstorm I’d gotten into.
When would I learn to think before rushing in?
Elfhame drew her fingers over the scar at my neck and I flinched.
Probably never .
“I can fix this.” Elfhame said it simply and rose from a crouch in a single graceful movement. As though her stomach only added to her poise rather than throwing her off balance. “It shouldn’t be an issue.”
Her wings fluttered, maybe compensating for the extra weight at her front.
I wished I knew more about pixies. I wished I’d thought to ask when I had the chance.
They were even more beautiful up close. Elfwaite had let me look at her wings sometimes, but since we were the same size now, the individual veining of the delicate lacy structures were clear.
Pixie wings more closely resembled a dragonfly’s wings than a bat or a hawk.
Elfhame swept out of the room, returning moments later with her finger crooked in the air and a tray floating just above her. She spelled the tray over to the table.
“This is for you. Please, eat, drink. Replenish yourself. The tea is made on the farm as well as the food. What did you say your name was?”
I never actually had. I gulped over my very dry throat and managed a meek, “Tavi.”
“Then, it’s a pleasure, Tavi. Please. Eat.”
Elfhame held out a blue and white floral patterned plate, a brownie taking up the majority of the center, the only one on the tray.
“This is a morsana brownie. We bake the flowers into many things, to be used as home remedies. The morsana properties are vast and it will heal internal injuries, like what you’ve done to yourself with the shifting.”
“How?” My stomach grumbled and my mouth watered. The crisp chocolate edges looked like this would be the best brownie of my life.
“In essence, the flower will bind the pieces of your fractured soul together again,” Elfhame explained. “The morsana are also pivotal components to necromancy ceremonies.”
She’d cut right to the chase, hadn’t she? And Poppy hadn’t told her about my other little problem.
Poppy huffed her agreement, kicked out her feet, dragging a stool over with the heel of her boot and crossing her legs at the ankles on it. “Told ya the pixies would know.”
It made sense, then, that we needed the flower to cure the zombie curse.
“Yet the other properties are only accessible with fresh morsana blooms,” Elfhame continued, “not baked brownies. The moment the buds are cooked, the potency is lost.”
Her eyes glittered as she settled on a pouf in the center of the floor. She crossed her legs and rounded her lips like the exhale eased some sort of pressure in her body.
One problem at a time. If it were as simple as chowing down on brownies to heal the vast multitude of things I’d done to myself, then I’d be better by now. Maybe .
Fighting Kendrick and outrunning Dorian Jade hadn’t left me with a lot of free moments for junk food, though, so at least I’d enjoy the snack.
It hit me with the force of a hammer to the skull how little care I’d taken of myself. How anyone looking at me from the outside, who might not see my motivations, might consider what I’d done to be an expression of hatred.
For me.
There wasn’t a whole lot of love for Tavi going around, was there?
The thoughts weighed heavily through my first bite. The richness of the chocolate was infused with a floral undertone. The first bite brought an aftertaste of something nutty, and comfortable heat filled my veins.
By the time I finished the brownie, I felt better, glowing from the inside out. Drawing the pieces of me back together and binding them irrevocably.
I smiled at Elfhame, at Bronwen, at Poppy and Mike pressed together on the velvet couch opposite ours.I’d forgotten the vow I made to myself in the halls of the academy, to never turn myself into an inanimate object again.
Adrenaline was no excuse for stupidity. I had to stop using it as one.
Start thinking things through before I acted.
That kind of thing had not only gotten me into trouble but killed Onyx. At the time, I’d always felt like whatever harebrained scheme popped into my head was the right way to go. But was it true?
Might there be alternatives? If I’d considered our trip into the abyss before we actually went?
I licked the crumbs off my fingers, pondering.
“We’re going to have to leave soon,” Elfhame said. Her mouth thinned. “It’s not safe here. We’re at war with the fae and this area is dangerous. Their first attack struck the outskirts of our fields already.”
“We saw the smoke as we were coming up the road.” Poppy spoke through a mouthful of fruit tart. “It was bad?”
Elfhame dipped her head, long pointed ears visible through her curls.
“We’re on the verge of losing the farm. Losing everything.
We’re packing to move on. As you know, it’s not an easy process to uproot an entire community but the fae have left us with little choice.
They’ve taken action on their threats. We are out of time. ”
“We need the morsana flower, badly. There is no way for us to leave without gathering fresh blooms.” Poppy’s gaze bored into Elfhame’s. “Tell me something survived.”
“Why?” the pixie pressed. “Why do you need it so badly that you are willing to risk everything to get it?”
“We’re already risking lives if we don’t get it,” Bronwen supplied. She sat on a stitched rug with a glass of something pink and icy in her hands. “We can’t leave. We need the morsana.”
“It’s a matter of life or death,” Poppy revealed with another sniff. “Funny how you should mention necromancy, actually.”
Elfhame’s gaze unerringly found mine again. “I have a touch of the sight. Nothing like yours, of course, but certain thoughts press in on me and sometimes I speak without realizing why. There’s more to the story than you’ve told me.”