Page 38 of Faerie Fate (Fae Academy for Halflings #7)

Elfwaite was always so small and her size made it impossible to see the details of her face, the fine wispy hairs. These were boys. Perfectly formed and inherently masculine boy pixies who stared at my wolf like he was their newest pet and they were ready to convince Mom to keep him.

Elfhame stepped between them and Noren. “Sorry. These monsters are mine and they’ve been out with their father in preparation for our departure. They know better than to make so much noise and disturb guests.”

“I’ve never seen a real direwolf before,” one of the boys said, wide-eyed. “He’s pretty.”

“He’s huge!” another remarked.

Eight sons in total filed into the house, trailed by an exhausted-looking male with wings the rich blue color of the deepest sea.

The oldest boys helped their father with the bags waiting in neat piles near the front door. The three of them were similarly sized, their heads topped with rich loamy brown hair.

Elfhame straightened from me slowly, her lips rounded on a silent whistle. “Eight boys,” she confirmed at my less than polite gawking from the floor. “This one will no doubt be a boy as well. My husband’s bloodline is strong.”

I was pretty sure it was Elfwaite in there but I said nothing as I blinked sleep away. “I’ve had worse wakeups,” I assured her. We all had.

As the sun tipped over the burning morsana fields, chaos exploded in the house. Elfhame’s family bordered on chaotic and their energy was limitless. Their smiles were infectious. All in all, they were sweet boys.

Bronwen took to them easily. “I always wanted brothers,” she explained with a shrug.

The moment we left the house, my body grew like a weed pushing through soil to search for the light.

I returned to normal size with a slight pop of my ears adjusting.

I glanced over my shoulder at Mike. The first step he took had him growing the same way, his chest filling out as though he were somehow even larger now that he’d returned to normal size.

The same for Noren. Only his first majestic footstep into a full-size direwolf was accompanied by a whoop of exuberance. Two of the youngest pixie boys sat between his ears, with another nestled near his shoulder blades.

“This is awesome!” One of them howled and Noren took up the sound.

“My apologies again,” Elfhame said near my ear. She flittered ahead. “They’re taken with your wolf.”

“If he had a problem with it, he’d let them know.”

If anything, I’d call Noren delighted by the attention. He pranced around the yard in front of the dollhouse with his head held high and his tail arched. Show pony style.

Elfhame and her husband used their magic fluidly, without hesitation. I’d seen some spectacular pieces of magic from fae in the city but the pixies were not in the same league.

Several other families of pixies joined us on our way out of Twilight’s Hush. Our small procession grew and swelled, their tiny voices magically amplified the way Elfwaite’s had been.

It was easy to feel comfortable with them. Not only were they excellent conversationalists, but the children were raucous and filled with pure glee. The boys took turns sliding down Noren’s neck into the fur on his back.

We stayed off the main roads as we travelled to avoid any run-ins with the fae.

The wilds around the pixie village reminded me of Scotland although I’d never been there. The forest gave way to moors blossoming with bushy twigs topped by yellow wildflowers. Rocky crags gave us breathtaking views of the rolling hills and cliffs. My spine tingled.

There wasn’t safety in the open this way. We were sitting ducks even with the spells Poppy and Elfhame placed to disguise our movements.

“Relax,” Poppy urged. “You worry too much.”

“We’ll stop for lunch here.” Elfhame waved an arm and sparks burst from her palm, carrying on the wind like so much passing detritus. “That will alert the others.”

“Breaking isn’t a good idea,” I warned. “We should keep going.”

“What did I tell you?” Poppy dropped her voice in a conspirator’s whisper with Elfhame. “This one is wound so tightly she’ll spiral out of control and dig us a hole all the way to Bluelar.”

The two laughed.

“No one is going to find us. Our spells are sound. There are many of us gathered and with Poppy’s addition, we are safe to break,” Elfhame explained.

Bronwen drew a hand over her forehead and mussed her hair. “Yeah, sorry if we’re not the trusting type. We’ve almost gotten killed too many times to count.”

Poppy leaned back on her elbows on the rocky ground. “Would you feel more comfortable running a patrol?”

Bronwen flashed a smile and shifted form into a crow then took off while the others settled.

Conjured blankets spun out of nothing rested against the gravel-strewn ground. There was nothing but softness when I dropped, Mike at my side, Poppy and Elfhame opposite us.

As I’d suspected, I really liked the pixies. It made sense, considering they were Elfwaite’s family, and I loved Elfwaite. Elfhame and her mate were easy to talk to, and rather than the sly run-around fae were so fond of giving, the pixies were blunt.

Mix that in with Poppy’s bluntness and it made for interesting lunchtime conversation.

Her oldest son unpacked a picnic basket. The rest of the village gathered around us in a neat circle, resting on their own blankets.

“The battle of EverRose was a sound win for the pixies,” Mike told us over food. He bit down into an apple and crunched through the flesh. “At least, based on what I learned in history.”

Elfhame fluttered closer. “Your history books wrote about our fight?”

Mike bobbed his head and tossed the apple to his opposite hand. It was a nervous gesture he did when he wasn’t ready to make eye contact, something physical to take his mind off of his discomfort. “Yes. Everything I’ve read says the pixies carry out a victory against the fae.”

There was more to the story than he wanted to say but clearly Elfhame took this as fuel to her fervor. She grew lighter in color, her wings fluttering faster.

“I told you we would be safe at EverRose,” she assured me. “You’ll get your flower and we will get our victory. The fae will no longer be able to control us. We are no longer their servants.”

I opened my mouth to correct her and quickly snapped it shut. She didn’t need to know about the loss of the war. The battle might be won but when it came down to the actual fight, the pixies did not win.

EverRose didn’t plot the course for the pixies’ future. It was a single bright point. After a decade of more fighting, the pixies failed.

“The morsana flowers are the only reason why you’re a target,” Poppy clarified with a grunt. The sound was another flashback to the Barbara I knew. “I told you already. It’s also the reason why you’re going to win. The power the flower infuses into weapons is unparalleled.”

“It’s a shame it’s extinct in our time.” Mike flopped on his side and got comfortable, resting his head against his arm.

My lips pursed. “We sure could have used it in the human realm.”

Elfhame chuckled and said, “I don’t think the flower would be nearly as potent without the power of this world to fuel it. As I’ve said before, our magic comes from the earth itself. As do your fae powers.”

There was so much I needed to learn and a part of me wondered why none of these things were taught at the Elite Academy. Or had I tapped out of classes too soon and missed all the good stuff?

Elfhame grabbed one of the glass teapots she’d transfigured and poured a healthy bit into the round of cups Poppy set out. Bronwen took the cup in one hand and lifted it to her lips.

Noren, without a cup, whined and stared at me with wide eyes better suited to a Golden Retriever puppy than a big bad wolf. I took a sip, the temperature absolutely perfect and the taste a combination of sweet and bitter.

“This isn’t for you, bud,” I told him. “I’m sorry.”

Poppy reached out and scrubbed Noren between the ears. “Whatever you did to the poor thing, Tavi, I’m sure of one thing. He’s better off with you than where he came from.”

“Noren?” I watched the direwolf’s eyes roll back in his head at the ear scratches. “I like to hope I’ve given him a pretty good life but I don’t know much about where the Unseelie keep their wolves, or how they’re trained.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Poppy replied. Her voice turned to granite. “They treat their wolves like they’re worse than animals, worse than slaves.”

The thought didn’t sit well with me. Then again, I hadn’t fully forgiven myself for using my cognitive manipulation on Noren, even if it had been a matter of life or death.

Still, I tried my best for him. He was more than a pet or a protector.

“You are a good friend. I’ve seen it. You do anything you can for the people you care about, and you spread yourself too thin to extend your protection,” Elfhame agreed.

I forced out a grin and a laugh I barely felt. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Never a bad thing. As long as you understand where to draw the line.”

I snuggled closer to Noren. “I’m probably never going to draw the line, but thanks for your concern.”

The feeling of eyes on me intensified and there was Mike, staring at me, scrutinizing me as though he were still trying to figure me out after all this time.

At least he wasn’t staring at my scar anymore. Hopefully, if given the time and space to process, he’d look past it. My fingers twitched with the urge to rub the raised skin.

Poppy noted the movement, of course she did, and kicked out at me playfully. “Beauty is more than skin deep. You’re a survivor.”

“We could tell you some horror stories.” Bronwen sighed and flopped on her back. “It doesn’t matter which world we’re in, mortal or fae, our kind is at the bottom rung.”

“You didn’t have protection?” Elfhame’s voice vibrated.

“Not really. We were both part of a secret society, the Claw & Fang, but now we’re on their shit list too.” I sipped my tea. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, we have time,” Elfhame prompted. She was so open with her pregnant belly and her children howling with laughter around us.

So we ate, drank, and talked like old pals.

If I closed my eyes, it was easy enough to pretend that the last few months hadn’t happened, or even the last few years. And once we finished lunch, we continued traveling.

The sun set beyond the horizon and Elfhame and her mate caught up to me.

“We should be getting close at this point,” she explained. “Another few miles and EverRose will come into view.”

“We lost the path a long time ago.” It was safer to stay off the road but cutting through the forest made for slow going.

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine.” Elfhame’s mate certainly sounded sure. “It’s a stronghold. It’s hard to miss.”

My senses were screaming at me to sit up and pay attention. The moonless dark made it difficult to discern the faint trail through the trees even when I shifted my eyes.

I bent and whispered to Noren, “Can you go ahead and find the way?”

He grunted in acknowledgement before taking off but it didn’t make me feel better. There was something brewing and the feeling grew like a seed, starting at the base of my spine.

“We may need to stop and discuss this, my love,” Elfhame said to her mate.

“What is there to discuss?” he chided gently. “The older pixies know the way. They’ll guide us home.”

I wished I had his confidence. I glanced back at Bronwen, who was able to see in the dark the same way I did, her gaze luminescent in the quick flash of starlight. Mike faltered behind her and I stopped to loop my arm through his.

A loud baying sound cut through the trees to the right and my skin tingled, my ears pulsing.

Mike’s chest heaved when his gaze collided with mine. “That’s Noren.”

There were no broken tree limbs, no sudden shouts, nothing to signal the arrival of the fae outside of a sword to my throat. The tip of the metal pressed against my jugular.

We were surrounded.