Guardian

by Rachel Morgan

Excerpt from

He sits up and stares at his surroundingsthe wildly tangled trees; the creeping mist; the shifting mixture of horror and awe on his face. That . . . was . . . Probably the most idiotic thing youve ever done, I think you were right about the dreaming thing, smoke-like colors in the yuro plants leaveswith a

I say. I doubt hes listening to me though.

he says. Theres no way this could be real. Am I high on something? Ugh. I clench my fists so tightly I can feel my nails digging into my skin. Its magic, you moron. He looks at me and frowns. Theres no such thing as magic.

Well, you probably think theres no such thing as

faeries either, and yet here I am. And here he is. In my forest. My home. I kick a flurry of leaves into the air. Their colors shift rapidly in protest, cycling through an endless palette: lavender, magenta, burgundy, sienna. I bury my face in my hands. I have so failed this assignment. No way, he says, rustling the leaves as he stands. I lower my hands. Excuse me? Ive been called

You cant be a faerie. Youre way too big.

many things in my seventeen years, but big has never been one of them. Quite the opposite, in fact. Arent faeries supposed to be, like, really tiny? With wings and a wand and faerie dust? Im not Tinker Bell! dream I guess you can be whatever you want to be. now? He takes a step back. Okay, okay. Since this is a Did it feel like a dream when I kicked you just Actually that did kind of hurt. He rubs his leg.

should not be here.

I shake my head. This is such a mistake. You He crosses his arms. So you dont have wings Sure I do, theyre in my pocket. Really? No! Im trying to think of the best way to fix Oh, wait, you do have a wand though. I saw you Its not a wand, its called a stylus. Just a stick, But it You know, if it werent my sole purpose in life to

then? he asks, completely ignoring what I just said.

this, and I wish hed just keep quiet. using it on my wall. really.

protect humans like you from crazy magical fae, Id leave you here to find your own way home. after a moment. Is that what you were doing in my room? he asks

was on assignment.

I sigh. Why am I telling him any of this? Yes. I I was your assignment? Wow, you catch on fast. Yes. He hesitates a moment, then grins. Thats kind of

hot.