And it serves them right. I hope every spell they perform blows up in their faces.
Jack looks like he’s going to push me for an answer, so I quickly pop out, “I was only asking ‘cause I feel bad for leaving Willow to take care of everyone without me. Like I’ve abandoned them or something. I guess I just wanted to know that they’re doing okay without me.”
His arms relax to his sides. I pick at the roll, popping little pieces into my mouth. The yeast isn’t as strong in this batch, so I’m left to chew on tasteless calories.
“I’m sure they’re fine, Rosalie. If Willow’s anything like you, she’ll move forward no matter what happens.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, chewing another piece of bread. I know he’s probably right, but I’m left to wonder how long Willow will hold out hope that I’ll one day return. I hope she knows I’ll fight until my dying breath.
“So what about the males? Juniper told me that there are male pixies mining diamonds somewhere.”
Jack nods his head. “I’m surprised she knew that. They used to be kept within the same glamour, but I think about ten years ago they minimized this glamour and made a new one for the males. But to answer your question, I don’t know. I’ve never gone into that one.”
“Why’d they separate us?”
“I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.”
I sigh quietly. I have every intention of freeing them as well, but they’ll be the hardest of all, seeing as how I have no idea where they are or what their glamour will entail. I only hope the males are holding up better than the females.
Sitting with my head lying atop my knees, I rock my body gently forwards and backwards. I’m hoping the motion will ease the cramping in my lower abdomen, but nothing seems to be calming my intestines, which seem to be mad at me for introducing too much food too soon. Oh well. I’ll take this discomfort over the starvation pains any day.
I hear the echoes of Jack’s whistles as he makes his way down the cave passage. When I told him what was hurting me earlier, he’d set off, simply stating that he’d be back. Please let him have something to ease my pain. But as he descends, all I see is a bucket, similar to the one he fills with water for me.
My forehead furrows in confusion. “What’s this for?” I ask as he sets it down beside me and sits across the hole.
“So you can…you know…go.”
“That’s what you went to get for me?” I immediately feel guilty about snapping at him. It’s just…that wasn’t what I was looking forward to. I was hoping for some concoction of herbs to drink that would relieve my pain. Not…a bucket.
“Well, you can’t dirty your water bucket and no way do I want you to keep going on the floor. Especially now that you’re eating so much.”
Groaning, I bury my eyes in my knees and for once welcome the darkness. “Mother Nature, this is so humiliating! How could my life possibly get any worse?”
“You could be naked.”
My head rises far enough for my eyes to shoot him an evil glare. He cocks his eyebrows suggestively.
“What?” he tries to ask innocently. “You asked how your life could be worse. Being na**d would definitely make life worse.”
I want to tell him where he can shove his idea of nudity – Mother Nature, this pain is making me moody! – but decide my best course of action is to change what he’s thinking altogether, because me being na**d is not something I want him focusing on. Especially since my clothes are wearing pretty thin these days. “So why haven’t you told me anything about your family?”
He cocks a half-smile, and the flame catches the glint in his cool green eyes. “Why haven’t you ever asked me before?”
Because I didn’t need you distracted then… “Sorry, but family isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when I meet new fae. Where I grew up, we don’t have families.”
His smile fades. “What?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “The eggs in our Hollow are collectively raised by the town, not individuals. I suppose some parents may be able to figure out which child is theirs, but anyone born within the same three months are given the same season as their birthday. I was given autumn. And our names come a little later, so no pixie can really be identified.”
“That’s…well, I’d say awful, since it’s so different than what we do here, but I guess to each his own. If it works, it works.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Who says it works? I felt protected growing up, but never really loved. How can you when there’s no one that really takes an interest in your well-being? They just show you the ropes and send you on your way.”
He smiles sweetly. “I don’t know, Rosalie. You seem like you turned out okay to me. You’re strong. You care about the well-being of others. You seem to fear very little. And you refuse to roll over.”
“Exactly which one of those traits got my village to come look for me?” I ask dryly.
His gaze averts to the flame and for a moment he’s quiet. “I have a mother and a father, and my little sister, Starla.”
Good. He doesn’t want to continue that other conversation any more than I do.
“A mighty fine cook. How old is she?”
“Thirteen. So you can see why she’s a pain.”
I chuckle. “I really wouldn’t know. I never considered any of the younger pixlings a sibling, so I was never really bothered by them growing up.”
He nods in agreement. “She’s not really that bad. She’s just reaching that age where she questions everything you’re doing. Where are you going? Why? What are you going to do there? Who’s going to be there? Why do you hang out with them anyway? Does mother know you’re going? It’s like a freakin’ inquisition.”
“Sounds like she’s really interested in her big brother.”
“More like my parents baited her to do their dirty work. They don’t trust me to stay out of trouble these days.”
My mind immediately recalls the conversation Jack had with Finley right here in this hole, and why he was here to begin with. “So what exactly did you do to get stuck watching me? Something you and your friend did?”
“It was just a prank,” he tries to explain seriously, but fails, a smile creeping across his face. “More my friend’s doing than mine.”
Being a pixie, the fae best known for screwing with others, I don’t buy that. “Uh-huh. Sure. It’s always someone else’s idea.”
“No, really. I played a part but it was all his doing.” I c**k my eyebrows, glaring until he decides to defend himself. “Look, I’ll tell you, but I probably don’t come off too good in this, even though I didn’t do it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It was stupid, really. This faerie Aliza has been chasing down my best mate Bastian for awhile now. Literally. Everywhere we go, she’s right behind us, to the point we can’t shake her. And Bastian can’t stand her. He’s told her he’s not interested and to just flit off, but she won’t.”
“Sounds desperate.”
“It is. Sorry, but guys typically don’t like faeries that are that easy. We want to be the ones chasing. It’s instinctive. Don’t get me wrong, Aliza’s pretty enough, but she’s not something Bastian wants to bother with. She’s annoyed him too much at this point.”
“So what exactly did you do to her? ‘Cause I can tell this is the part that got you into trouble.”
“Well…” he drags out, “one day we came across this bee hive in the forest.”
“Oh, no.” I moan and bury my eyes behind my hands as if the shame were my own.
“Yeah. We smoked the bees out and took the hive. The next time Aliza chased us down, we took off to where we stashed it. I stood out in the open and Bastian hid up above. When Aliza stopped to talk to me, Bastian poured the honey all over her wings so she couldn’t take flight again. She had to walk home that day, and it wasn’t a short walk.”
“Mother Nature. Jack! That’s horrible!”
“It’s not like it did permanent damage,” he defends. “All she had to do was wash it off.” He points his finger at me, adding, “And it has kept her from following us again.”
I shake my head. “That poor faerie.”
“Poor is something she’s not. In fact, that’s why we got into trouble. She’s the daughter of one of our elders.”
“Brilliant, Jack. Brilliant,” I chastise. “So if you’re here with me, what’s Bastian’s punishment?”
“He got manure duty for three months. He has to go out into the forest and collect a certain amount of feces each day to make the fertilizer with.”
My nose crinkles. “Ooh. Yuck.” Typically the male pixies in our Hollow dealt with that, but there were times I flew through the nearby meadow and caught a whiff. “I suppose pixie-sitting me is better than that?”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah. I was mad at first, but when I heard what Bastian got, I got over it.”
“So what about you, Jack?” I ask suggestively, crossing my arms and eying him playfully. “Got any faeries in mind for courting?”
“Courting!” he bellows, practically spitting across the hole. “Are you crazy? There are very few I’d even consider dating at this point.”
“Down boy,” I ease, holding my hands up in surrender. I certainly don’t want him bursting that blood vessel currently pulsating on his forehead. “Got it. You’re not ready to court. But what exactly is dating?”
“What’s dating?” he asks incredulously. “Seriously? Don’t you pixies date?”
“Maybe. What is it?”
“It comes before courting. You go out with a few different faeries, or in your case pixies, before deciding which one you want to court. You know, try them on for size and see if you’re right for each other. Don’t you pixies do that?”
I shake my head. “No. We just court.”
“Dear, Mother Nature. Can you break off the courtship if one of you wants out?”
“Huh. I don’t know. I’ve never noticed it happening before, but I suppose someone would have at some point.”
“So…were you…uh…being courted back home?”
My lips curl in one direction, laughing internally over his awkwardness. “No. Guess I haven’t found a pixie that gets my wings fluttering either.”
There’s a quiet hmm coming off his throat, then we sit in silence for a few minutes. I don’t mind the silence really. Just his presence is comforting. It keeps me from going all crazy down here. But the longer I sit in silence, the more I realize my intestines are still mad at me. The internal twisting is painful. My knees shoot upward and I keel over to bury my face in my legs, gently rocking.
Metal scrapes across the rock, nearing my body, and I know it’s that dreadful bucket Jack brought me. As I twist my head sideways to glare up at him, he says, “Let me know when you’re done with that.” At least he’s not mocking me, or flashing me any type of embarrassing facial expressions. But the humiliation of my predicament overwhelms my emotions. I cringe and bury my head once more, digging my hands roughly through my oil-soaked hair. I can’t believe this is really happening to me.
“Try not to think about it,” he says softly. I hear him brush the dirt off his pants. “Trust me. I’m not going to take the time to study it before I dump it.”
I raise my right hand and give him a thumbs up, but refuse to look at him as he departs. On the comforting side, he kindly refrains from laughing at my expense. Can’t say the male pixies in my Hollow could have done that.
Jack descends within a warm, luminous light. I like seeing him this way. Something about the flame’s glow against his skin is alluring, easy on the eyes. He flutters his wings as he lands and sets the lantern down. How I wish I can have that lantern during the night. No one ever comes by, at least not to my awareness. I just hate being alone down here, and that light could offer a little comfort during those cold, dark hours.
“Good morning, Rosalie.” He points to the bucket off to the side. “Are you done with that?”
I nod my head, averting my eyes from his gaze, the shame overwhelming. It wasn’t easy going in that bucket, or comfortable by any means, but I suppose it’ll be even more humiliating if Jack saw it on the floor.
“Good,” he says, moving to pick it up by the handle. “Because we need it for something else today.”
He’s already flying up before I get off, “For what?”
“You’ll see,” he teases, disappearing from sight. I can’t say I’d be excited over anything having to do with the very bucket I’m forced to defecate in. He returns a few minutes later, bucket in one hand, and a bag made of tightly woven straw that’s tied with rope in the other. The bucket, I notice, is filled with nothing but water. I look to him curiously, and he replies, “Don’t worry. I washed it out several times. It’s clean.”
“O-kay…” I draw out. “But what are we going to use it for?”
He unties the rope and opens the bag, pulling out two miniature lemons already halved, and a tin container. He unscrews the lid and passes it over. The substance inside is amber in color, and thick and gooey.
I gasp, and feel my eye muscles stretch wide. Honey! “I get to wash my hair?” I ask excitedly, practically bobbing up and down right where I sit.