The Pixie’s Power

A Kat Drummond Short Story

By
Nicholas Woode-Smith

This short story is set during the events of book 11 of the Kat
Drummond Series, The Silver Star, and contains spoilers for books 9
and 10.

Enjoy!
 Copyright © 2020
Kat Drummond
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is
coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission
of the publisher and the copyright owner.
Cover Design By: Richard Smith
Website: https://nicholaswoodesmith.com/
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 “Duer…Duer,” a voice of golden honey lilted in me ears. It repeated
those words, again and again. And I must admit that I became lost in them.
Not for what the golden voice was saying, but for who she was.
“Duer…wake up, me love,” the voice became more urgent, but without
sacrificing a hint of its tranquillity.
I opened my eyes, slowly, so as to savour the last bits of the song. And I
was greeted by a glow of unbridled joy. A head of auburn hair topped an
exquisite visage. I asked me self every day how a pixie like me could have
won her heart. I never found an answer. And, like me, she wouldn’ ever
give me one. Couldn’ make it too easy.
And that’s why I loved her.
“Duer, ye stone-eyed lazer,” the pixie that I loved insulted me, beaming
with a joy I mirrored. “It’s far past the ram’s call. Ye gonna be late!”
“Miri?” I smiled but winced as a shock went through my head. Like
looking at the sun too fast after leaving the shade o’ the tree canopies.
Miri, me wife and everything, cocked her head. Her glow wavered a
fraction. Concern. I couldn’t let her light dim on me account. I made me
heart afire, strengthening me resolve and sat up upon me heart-wood bed.
Me wings flared out behind me, coloured gold and a fiery orange. Miri
loved me wings. Said she’d fallen for me on their account. But we’d
courted for the better part of what the giants said was an age, so I’d guess
there was more to me than just that. At least, I hoped.
Even so, the sight of me wings aflutter caused Miri to grin and glow. I
smiled gladly.
The room was clean. Spotless. Always was. Miri didn’t let me and Raig
tinker in the main part of the tree. But me son and I had a great place for
contraptions at the foot o’ the tree. A clever boy, that. When I was his age,
I’d only been making widgets to pester the birds. But he was making ways
to press fruit, and make the honey go further than we could otherwise.
Miri said it was like magic. Raig said that machines were like magic
anyone could use.
Magic or not, my pride for him surpassed the pride for me wings.
“What ye lookin’ at, Duer?” Miri commented, hands on her hips. She
was wearing a green tunic, crafted of leaf and beetle-twine. There was a
twinkle of mischief in her eyes. It scared and excited me. Miri was the best
prankster of the kinth. Not even I was spared her hijinks.
I puffed out me chest.
“Lookin’ at the stars and sky, me love. And wondering how they got
inside me cosy tree-close.”
Miri held my gaze for a few moments, and then approached me. I
engulfed her in my arms and wings, nuzzling her nose and forehead with
my own. Our glows mingled and hummed together.
“I had a dream,” I whispered, remembering darkness before the light of
her voice.
“I must have been in it if ye struggled to wake up,” she replied,
squeezing her arms around me more tightly.
My glow wavered.
“Ye weren’t, but that’s all the pity, me love.”
Her glow flickered in response, but then sparked up again.
“Ye’re awake now. No fret. The Honeying Festival is just about to begin.
And ye’re the glider for the feth’uon da’ree if ye didn’t remember.”
“I remember!” I lied.
Miri sensed my untruth and kissed me, as if rewarding me for my
harmless deceit.
 “Dad!” a voice called from outside, and my heart was simultaneously
filled with joy and longing.
“He’s coming now, Raig,” Miri yelled back.
She looked me up and down.
“Ye all ready for the game? Raig is counting on you. We all are.”
I didn’t feel ready. I felt like I’d let them down. That we’d lose again.
But that they’d forgive me at the end-game feast. That the Honeying would
go well, like all the others, and that I’d come home to another century of
love.
I glowed my assent.
“I’m ready, me love.”
“Dad! They’re getting ready to poke the badger-bird! Ye’re gonna be
late.”
“Coming!” I shouted back.
I kissed Miri again, long and tenderly, and made my way to the rounded
door of the tree-close.
I didn’t remember the game today. But my head was fuzzy. It had to be
the dream. The Honeying and the game of feth’uan da’ree were the most
important times in a pixie’s life. Well, this pixie’s life.
“Duer!” a voice called. Had to be my son’s. Calling a parent by their
name was always a sign of urgency. I sped up towards the door. But I
wasn’t getting any closer.
“Duer!” the voice repeated, urgently.
“I’m coming!” I yelled back, but my voice was hoarse.
The door remained far away. I lifted my feet from the ground and began
to flap my wings. Desperately. I couldn’t catch any air and tumbled back to
the wooden surface. The door remained elusively far away.
 “Duer! Duer! Wake up, Duer!” the voice repeated. Sad. Desperate.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered back, as I crawled along the floor. The
door kept moving back. Far back. Until I couldn’t see it anymore.
Then I felt it. Behind me where the love of me existence had once been
before. The darkness.
This was the dream, I realised. And I should’ve known. Cause I wasn’t
getting it back.
***
“Duer! Duer! Wake up…please,” a female pixie’s voice echoed in my
ears, as I felt soft hands shake me awake. My eyes blinked open, to be
greeted by a cascade of black hair, touching the ground like a robe of the
finest material.
“I was dreamin’, Brivvy,” I snapped. She jumped back, clasping her
hands behind her back. Her green eyes were apologetic and her glow
wavered, a tiny bit, before she found new fire.
“Ye were screamin’ in ye sleep,” she explained, calmly, if a bit
defensively. I looked her up and down, half-expecting to see the same outfit
that Miri had been wearing in me dream. But the leaf here was brittle, and
beetles didn’t produce twine. I’d figured that out the hard way. Brivvy wore
a shirt and skirt of the giant’s cloth. The kindly light-bringer, Cindy, had
bought clothes for all the kinth. I didn’t like their cuts, but Brivvy insisted
we be polite and wear them.
I didn’t like it. Got in the way of me flying. Even with Brivvy’s sewing
adjustments.
My eyes lingered on Brivvy’s skirt. She had sewn some patches of
different colours into the cloth. It made the eyes joyful. Like a field o’
flowers.
 Brivvy was good at sewing, I’d admit. Better than Miri. But that thought
was a sad one.
“Me screamin’ was for me own business,” I replied, averting my eyes.
Brivvy could see me lies. Like Miri could. Darn pixies. We’re too good at
seeing through each other.
I noticed that my blanket, a splendid piece of shredded red fabric that I’d
liberated from a giant’s window-frame, was strewn across the ground. My
wings must’ve fluttered in me sleep.
Brivvy didn’t say anything.
I frowned. I’d spoken harshly, I must admit. But Miri would’ve had her
revenge by now. She’d have tackled me and twisted me arms till I cried for
the hoot-owls to spare me her ire with their death-bringing maws.
I smiled at the thought. Cause after I’d said sorry, Miri would smile her
mischievous smile. And then we’d be light again.
But Brivvy wasn’t Miri.
“I’m sorry,” I said, finally.
“It’s fine, Duer,” Brivvy said, leaning down to pick up my discarded
blanket. She held it tightly in her tiny hands. Small, even for a pixie. I
looked at my own, criss-crossed with scars and burns. Brivvy’s were soft.
Smooth.
I was thankful for that. It meant she hadn’t suffered as much as I. And I
wouldn’t wish her to.
She offered me the blanket, and I accepted it, smoothing it out over my
bed of food-stained wood found where the giants discarded their valuable
loot.
“I also miss them,” Brivvy said, suddenly. Quietly. Her eyes were sad.
My glow dimmed, to almost the dark hue of the giants.
 I’d known Brivvy then. But hadn’t had eyes for her. There’d only been
Miri.
Only her.
But never again.
I sighed, heavily. A habit I’d picked up from my favourite giant – Maddy
Cat Drum or something. It meant I was done with a topic. That it was time
to move on.
I tried sighing a lot. It never helped.
Brivvy understood nonetheless and backed away, giving me room to
stand and stretch me wings. I half expected her to be in awe of them. They
were good wings. Had flown many a mile. In the In Between, they’d
dodged plenty o’ the creeps. And plenty more when Maddy fought those
who’d come after her.
But Brivvy didn’t seem to be looking at me. Her eyes were glossed over.
Thoughtful. Her glow thrummed rhythmically. Not sad. But not joyful
either. Contemplative.
“What’s it, Brivvy?” I asked, eloquently, as I made my way to the
entrance of my tree-close. A curtain, made from the same fabric that I’d
liberated for my bed, concealed a hole to the outside world.
Brivvy looked up, surprised that I’d spoken to her.
“Nothing…nothing…” she lied.
I tried to let the fib slide. But, something in me was compelled to
challenge her on it. Perhaps, it was because I led this kinth now. And her
concerns were mine.
“Ye a bad liar, Brivvy. And I’m a good’un. You can’t get a fib past me.”
Brivvy approached, her wings silently fluttering, allowing her to hover
slightly off the ground. It was subtle. Like everything about her, Brivvy was
able to accomplish great things without looking like she’d done anything at
all.
I admired her flight, and the way her long hair never caught on her
wings, when she stopped by me. It took me a moment to realise that she’d
taken me hands in hers.
She smiled, almost sadly.
“It’s been a while, Duer…”
“Not long enough,” I replied, but I didn’t let go. Even if my soul told me
to.
“It’ll never be long enough. What happened to us…it wasn’t meant to
happen. But we’re here now. And we’ve got a new kinth. A kinth you lead.”
Fancy her saying that. I led because I was the first here. I led them to this
promised land. But Brivvy was their leader. The one who had kept them
safe among the dark rock and in the giants’ cages.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, almost cuttingly. But it came out
desperate. Because I didn’t know what to do.
Brivvy squeezed my hand tighter.
“Ye’re our leader, Duer. Do what ye think is right. It’s a time o’ peace.
The Tree o’ Many Gifts grows ever more fruit.”
But what is a leader to do when their people don’t need to be led?
I let go of Brivvy’s hand.
“I’ll patrol. To see what is to be seen. Perhaps, the feline will renew its
war against us, and I’ll be required to tame it once again.”
Brivvy grinned. “Perhaps, me…perhaps. But also remember what we
discussed at the last moot. Adair is building a widget in the giant’s domain
again. We agreed to leave.”
 “Bah! Ye agreed to vacate our promised land. Not I. I’ll go to Adair and
help him in his fight for freedom.”
I spun on my heels and made it to the cusp of my tree-close. I couldn’t
help but feel Brivvy’s triumphant glow on my back. What for? I didn’t
know. Blasted woman!
Fresh, chilly air pelted my face, infused with the delightful smell of fae-
grown wood. Airy, wooden and full o’ life. It masked most of the stench of
the giants’ civilisation just over yonder. Don’t get me wrong! There be
plenty of great things the giants do. They can make a widget almost as good
as any pixie. I dare say, they be better at tinkering than most of the other
fae. Us Aith’aren, Ironwings, can touch iron. But our frail cousins get burnt
when they do. Shameful. But what ye gonna do? They’re family!
But yeah. The giants aren’t all bad. But the stench of their rampaging
metal monstrosities, with all the fumes and noise, do give me a right
headache.
I thought I’d gotten used to it when living with Maddy. But now that we
had some good ol’ fae-wood to live in again, I was losing me tolerance.
I took in another deep breath, ignoring the hint of fumes in the distance.
The Tree o’ Many Gifts was healthy today. Of course, it’d be! I was in it.
Brivvy may have led this kinth. But this was me land. The tree was me
domain.
I stood on the precipice of the Tree o’ Many Gifts and gazed over the
promised land. Green grass, speckled with flowers and dandelions, covered
the expanse from the foot of the tree all the way till the stone exterior of the
giants’ house. Usually, the giants didn’t have a knack for architecture. Their
cities were full o’ these grey piles of rock. Cindy called them brutalist. I
asked why Maddy hadn’t slain them yet.
 But Cindy the giant’s house wasn’t bad. For a giant’s house, that is. It
had white walls, which reflected the sun and kept its golden glow on the
Tree o’ Many Gifts all the longer. And, under every shimmering glass
window, there were places to grow plants. Me kinth who hadn’t settled in
the tree had set up little huts around these planters. Little colonies across the
domain.
Brivvy didn’t like spreading our numbers too thin. But she was paranoid.
We were safe here. It was the closest to the Old Wood we’d ever get again.
I took a step forward, my wings stiffly splayed behind my back, and fell
forward. I let the wind buffet against me, as the glowing holes alongside the
tree-trunk rushed past me, and the mushrooms growing at the foot of the
tree approached ever closer…
I twisted, allowing me wings to catch an airflow, and I was soon gliding
just above the grass. Below me, Muir and Neacht waved. They carried
twigs and were busy doing this giant thing called “going for a walk”.
Peculiar. I had best watch out for more non-pixie business. Didn’t want the
giants to corrupt me kinth with their odd ways.
My flight took me to where the grass turned to stone, and I pulled back,
fluttering my wings to hover above the ground.
On top of a titanic chair, where Cindy usually sat, was a black and white
furry monstrosity. The two shades fused into a pattern reminiscent of the
fancy suits the giants sometimes wore. The creature flexed its massive
paws, unsheathing its razor claws before allowing them to sink back into
hiding.
Its eyes were closed. But I knew better.
I landed softly before the creature’s face, careful not to touch its
whiskers. Its shallow breathing came out as a rumble. Truly the growl of a
magnificent beast.
 I surveyed the surrounding area for blood and the remains of my
brethren. Fortunately, I found none.
“Oi, great and mighty feline. Have we got peace today again?” I yelled.
A very pertinent question to ask. One could never know where one stood
with these primordial monstrosities.
The creature blinked its dark eyes open and stared coldly. I felt the rush
of air before the impact and was able to dodge out of the way as the feline
rushed at me with its paw.
“War it is, then!” I yelled, looking around for reinforcements.
But the creature didn’t pursue me. Even as I hovered within striking
distance, it emitted a loud rumble (possibly a threat) and rolled onto its
back.
“It’s toying with ye,” Adair exclaimed, as he hovered to my side.
He was clutching a gold-coloured screw. Almost as long as he was.
Possibly a part of his new invention. The one Brivvy had mentioned.
“Bah! He isn’t worth the trouble,” I explained, turning away from my
mortal foe and towards me friend.
Adair was not from me Old Wood. He had joined the kinth after we’d
escaped the evil giants lair. He was from another world, possibly. Brought
here by the cuts in the In Between like we’d been. But we spoke the same
language. All pixies did. Didn’t matter where they were from.
Many of the pixies of the kinth were new. But they were kinth now. So,
I’d die for them. If I needed to.
“Brivvy says ye rebelling against the Moot,” I explained in a hushed
voice and the tone of a conspirator.
“Not rebelling,” Adair said, almost defensively. My excitement wilted.
Did nobody know how to have fun anymore?
 “This ain’t an interrogation. The Moot don’ apply anyhow. I signed
nothin’.”
“Really, Duer. Cindy asked me to fix the door. So that’d be what I’m
doin’.”
“Ye a servant of the giant now? What has become of ye?”
Adair blushed a fierce red. His glow shimmered as he blushed.
“She offered me honey an’ vodka. It is honest employment!”
Honey? Vodka?
Why hadn’t I thought of offering to fix doors?
“Well, I better follow you along. To see if ye are doing it all properly.”
And maybe Cindy will give me some commission for inspecting the
workplace.
Aye, Duer. Ye’re an ingenious devil, ain’t ye?
Adair cocked his head, considering me, but then shrugged. He started
hovering away, towards a hole in the door that Cindy called a cat-flap, but
we all knew was actually for we pixies. I gave the feline one last gander,
and then followed.
The confines of Cindy’s house were eerily quiet. I remembered when the
house was bustling with all sorts of pixie productivity. Invention, tinkering,
glorious gliding. All that good stuff. But then the one-eyed, bigger than
giant, giant came and smashed up the house. The Tree o’ Many Gifts had
survived, but the house was wrecked. Flattened like the fields of Gr’edo
when…
Those weren’t good memories. I banished them. No point dwelling on
them.
More giants came and, under Cindy’s supervision, they rebuilt the house.
But none of my kinth’s creations inside the walls had survived.
 Brivvy had won at the Moot. The house wasn’t safe for our kind. We
weren’t meant to live under stone roofs. But I still missed my little wooden
house in Maddy’s room.
Adair landed on the marbled surface of Cindy’s kitchen counter. An
island cliff in the middle of a tiled ocean. Arranged haphazardly, with a sort
of divine madness, atop the tabletop were an assortment of tools. A giant
screwdriver, more screws, and a hand-drill that could be held by a pixie. If I
remembered correctly, Adair had built that himself. He was a good tinkerer.
“What’s wrong with the door?” I asked, tiptoeing between all the
doodads as Adair collected some more screws and hefted the screwdriver
all by himself.
“It wails like the dead whenever it opens or closes,” Adair explained.
I raised my eyebrow, sceptically.
“Wouldn’t some oil on the hinges be enough?”
Adair shook his head. “Nah. The screws be the problem. Bad screws.
Dark energy. They stink o’ the Void.”
He offered one of the screws that he’d discarded to the side. I sniffed it.
Smelled like metal to me. Metal and a hint of pine. But Adair was a good
tinkerer. He’d know best.
“So, how much honey and vodka are we talking here?”
Adair shook his head and didn’t reply as he took off. I followed,
pestering him on the way.
The lights were off in the house, so the only light was that from the
outside. But Cindy and that giant that everyone just called “Guy”, were out.
So, all the curtains were closed. This leant a darker hue to the house than
normal. We could still see, mind you, but it was an eerie flight. Quiet, if not
for me completely reasonable commentary and Adair’s less than reasonable
rejection of it.
Finally, we arrived at one o’ the many doors in the house. This one lay
open to the place with all the white porcelain and water widgets. The door’s
hinges were exposed and were holding on by a single screw.
Adair examined my expression and stuck his tongue out.
“I know what I’m doing. I’ll replace the last cursed screw when the door
is secured.”
“But won’t the curse then rub off on the other screws?”
Adair froze and his glow wilted, before sparking up again.
“Of course not! These are fae-blessed screws.”
“Of course.”
I should have known!
We landed on the floor by the door, as Adair placed his tools on the
ground. He cricked his back, a habit picked up from the giants, and began
inspecting the fae-blessed screws.
The room fell awfully quiet. Without light, the ceiling was almost
completely dark. I couldn’t remember what colour it was supposed to be.
Admittedly, I hadn’t been paying attention.
Adair identified the screw he was to use next and flew up with it to a
prepared hole lined up with the hinge. I waited, regretting tagging along as
this was proving to be awfully boring. Maybe I should use some of the
cursed screws to play a prank on Brivvy?
Adair inserted the screw into the hole as best he could with just his bare
hands and then flew down to retrieve the screwdriver.
“That looks heavy,” I commented.
 “Not on ye life, Duer,” Adair panted. “The honey and vodka are all
mine. I need no help.”
Drat!
Adair flew up with his hefty payload and lined up the star-head with the
screw. I knew he didn’t need me help. We may be small, but we pixies are
tough. But I also wanted some sweet stuff…
“Ye sure ye don’t need me help?” I yelled, cupping my hands around my
mouth to bellow up to my friend as he worked.
Adair ignored me, and I began to tap my foot impatiently on the ground.
Finally, he was satisfied with how he’d lined up the screwdriver and began
to twist it.
“Make sure ye don’t twist it too hard! Ye could drill a hole through
Cindy’s wall. Then Brivvy will chew us both out.”
“I know!” Adair yelled back, followed by a bone-chilling crunch. Like
the rending of metal.
We both fell silent. The clatter of the screw hitting the floor followed.
Neither Adair nor I made a sound.
Silence.
And then, the scraping of wood. Crunching. Cutting. Sawing. Adair
clutched his ears, dropping the screwdriver. I dodged to the side, lest it hit
me.
And then…it stopped.
Adair quietly dropped next to me.
“I didn’t do that,” he whispered, defensively, but also with a hint of
disbelief.
“I know that,” I snapped. I glanced towards the screws, scattered on the
wooden floor, and bent down to pick one up.
 “But something did,” I continued, swinging the screw and testing its
weight. It was no sword, but it’d do.
Adair nodded, but I heard an unmistakable gulp from his throat. He
retrieved another screw and stood behind me. We took off, fluttering quietly
within the house. We stopped.
I looked at Adair, pointedly. He nodded. He felt it too.
A menace. A dark peril, edging closer and closer. We pixies are good at
sniffing out evil. Usually, Maddy or Cindy would be around to do the rest,
but we didn’t need them for everything.
We flew higher, edging just below the ceiling. Monsters seldom looked
up. They thought they were tall enough already. But you didn’t need to be
tall to fly up high.
With the safety of height, we went further into the house. Closer towards
the evil. The air grew thick with malice. Dark. Darker. It smelled worse
than any leaving by the feline monstrosity. And stank of something far more
dangerous.
The In Between.
We stopped dead. My wings stopped flapping for a moment before I
realised, I was about to fall.
We were in Cindy’s lounge. In the midst of the new wooden coffee table,
shredded and splintered, and the still boxed TV, was a very unwelcome
guest.
It was wreathed in twisting shadows, that took the form of a constantly
shifting and torn black robe. The being was hunched, with its face
protruding from its front, hidden by a hood of darkness. And it floated off
the ground without any wings or supports.
I, of course, knew what this was. I’d be a bad fae if I didn’t.
 It was one of the darkest of things. I’d seen its like before. In a time I
chose to forget.
There existed many types of spirits. Many of them were dark. Evil.
But wraiths…wraiths were the evillest.
The wraith revealed a pair of sharp, sword like claws from under its
robe, and raked them across Cindy’s couch. I winced. If she had to use her
giant money to replace that and the table, she wouldn’t have enough to buy
us sweets and booze!
With a jagged movement, the wraith arced its head towards us. But
before it could see a thing, Adair had already pulled me out of line of sight,
behind the wall.
“What is that thing?” Adair asked, panic in his voice.
“Nothing good.” I was surprised by the calm in mine. Especially as
anger grew. That was a nice couch! I was going to sit on it and eat honey
and English Mustard.
But, a couch was a couch. Pixies were pixies. Totally different. And one
much more important than the other.
I turned to Adair.
“This is important. I need you to go to Brivvy. Tell her what’s
happening.”
Adair hesitated. “Then what?”
“She’ll know what to do. Hide, methinks.”
He turned to leave, but then stopped.
“What ye going to do?”
I gave him a half-grin. “What I do best!”
I turned away, muttering under my breath. “Being bait.”
 Adair left my line of sight. Good. Brivvy would gather the kinth. Get
them to hide. I doubted this thing could get through the trunk of the Tree o’
Many Gifts but, if it could, I wanted them ready to get out.
Which meant I needed to delay this thing. Lest it spot any pixies to
torment.
I took a breath.
It had been a while since Maddy took me on any of her mad adventures.
Brivvy wanted me to become a kinth man. And, perhaps, that’s what I
wanted.
But, looking after a kinth was more than just singing to flowers and
gathering scrap…
I descended from my hiding place on the ceiling. The wraith’s attention
was fixedly set on the new bookshelf. It lashed out, cutting into the shelf,
letting new books fly into a hundred tiny fragments.
Got anger management issues, eh?
It would be funny to watch, if it hadn’t been Cindy’s home it was
wrecking. Me home!
I stopped metres away from the wraith, hovering high above the ground.
Close to the dark spirit, I could see through its veneer of clothing. It was
wearing nothing, obviously. Spirits didn’t have clothes. Indecent lot. They
looked the way they saw themselves. And this bastard saw himself as an
ugly, hunched, sword-fingered blob of black.
“Oi, ugly. Just cause ye’re a mess doesn’t mean you can make one in me
house!” I yelled, immediately regretting my actions.
The wraith stopped its attacks on the furniture. Froze. Without moving,
its head swivelled to the other side of its body, facing me dead-on.
 A cracked and dented skull, that seemed crafted of dark metal, stared
with no eyes. While this decimated mask should have held no expression, I
could sense its throbbing anger. Like a dark pit of molten rage.
“What happened to yer face, mate?” I continued. “Get hit by Charon’s
oar on the way to the grave?”
Silence.
If I was a giant, a bead of sweat would’ve formed on me forehead and
travelled all the way to me toes by now. But I stood firm. My glow didn’t
waver. Well, not for too long.
Suddenly, the squeaking and tearing of metal on metal tore through me
ears. I had to resist placing my hands on them. I realised, that this sound
was the thing speaking. And, as it spoke, its words became known to me.
“Where is the Vessel?” it asked. A voice like cold metal. A breathless
and silent night. And the darkness of the briny deep.
“I ain’t gonna enable ye drinkin’, mate,” I replied. Vessel? I’d heard that
somewhere before. Maddy mentioned it? Allow me to be Frank, even
though I’m Duer, but I don’t listen to half of what she says.
“Where is the Vessel?” the wraith repeated. “Don’t make me tear it out
of you, runt of the Aith’aren. I am looking for the so-called Last Light. The
Champion of the Lady…Kat Drummond.”
Ah. Of course. After Maddy. But how was I meant to know where she
was? I’m not her baby-sitter. She’s probably off galivanting somewhere on
metal birds or some equally insane balderdash.
I grinned conspiratorially. As if I knew the greatest secret in the world.
“Wouldn’t ye like to know, ye overgrown dish cloth?”
“Do not test me, insolent runt. The huntress bested me once before. But I
now know why. I have come for my revenge. And I won’t let a pint-sized
fae hover in my way.”
“Maddy beat you? Bah! Probably used you as a rag to clean her swords.
She kills bigger beasts than you for warm-ups.”
“So, you do know her. Where is she?”
I stuck my tongue out and blew a raspberry. “Not telling you a ripe old
sausage.”
I felt no rush of air, or any disturbance to herald the wraith’s blades
heading towards me. Only my impeccable instinct and timing let me dodge
to the side, as the wraith tore into Cindy’s couch again.
“That’s her! Oh, me fae-aunt’s backside, ye killin’ her. No, stop!” I
feigned, quite amusingly, before whizzing away, sticking my tongue out all
along the way.
“You will suffer, pixie scum!” the wraith cried out, screeching as it
zoomed after me.
Another blade flew towards me, just as I dodged under a chair, barrel
rolling to avoid a spray of splinters as another piece of brand-new furniture
was destroyed.
“Cindy is gonna be mad when she gets ye,” I chortled.
“The purifier shall also die. After you. Worm!”
We tore into the kitchen. Not good! Too close to the Tree o’ Many Gifts.
I had to lead him away. But he was blocking the way to other parts of the
house. And this was the only open window and pixie flap.
I darted behind the bread box, and took a few breaths, just as blade-tips
flanked me from either side. The wraith lifted the skewered bread box and
flicked its blade-fingers, sending its remains to the floor.
“You will tire eventually. And then you will die, little one…”
“Who ye calling little?!”
 “But I can spare you. Tell me. Where is Kat Drummond?”
I stood still. Catching my breath. The wraith floated an arms-length
away from me. Not a lotta space to fly.
I let out a sigh of defeat.
“I’ll tell ye,” I said, resignation in my voice.
The wraith positively vibrated with triumph.
“But…I need to whisper it to ye. It can’t be heard aloud.”
“Ah, yes. An arcane hideout. Yes…” It began to lean forward.
“No, no. I’ll fly up to ye.”
The wraith stopped, as I flew slowly towards its head.
The thing about Cindy was that she understood defeating dark magic
almost as well as most fae.
The wraith resonated anticipation as I flew closer to the vicinity of its
ear. Closer. Slowly.
Cindy was so good as fighting dark magic that she practically lived and
breathed purification. A good lass. But it wasn’t the living and breathing I
cared about.
It’s what she ate off.
The wraith didn’t have ears, but I made a motion for him to arc where an
ear should be towards me. He obliged.
“I know where Kat Drummond is…” I whispered.
“Yes?”
“She is…”
“Yes?”
“She is…”
“Yes? Tell me!”
I flipped backwards, onto the plate shelf, and grinned.
 “She’s back in the garbage heap where ye spawned, ye bloated trash
bag!”
With a stomp, I kicked up the lip of Cindy’s prized silver plate and, with
a flourish, hefted it towards the wraith. He pulled back, but not far enough
as the plate collided with his formless shadowy flesh. He let out an
almighty scream, as the silver hissed through his spectral form.
I didn’t delay my escape. This would only last a few seconds.
I shot through the opening, dodging narrowly as blades cut into the
countertops. But, even as I did so, the edge caught my wing. I faltered but
couldn’t let it stop me. I kept going.
Fresh air almost overwhelmed me as I escaped through the open
window. I noted the silence, first. No pixie-songs. And the feline wasn’t
lying on his chair.
Emptiness.
With a lump in my throat, and the screams of the enraged wraith at my
back, I rushed to the Tree o’ Many Gifts. I didn’t see a single face peek out
at me. Did Brivvy evacuate them all already?
Or…did something get to them first? Was the wraith acting alone?
I shook my head, determinedly ignoring the thought. But instead, new
thoughts entered my mind.
“No,” I whispered. “I forgot about you. I had to.”
The memory didn’t care about me. And it showed me a picture I’d
wanted to keep buried.
Of a scorched field. Trees that stood but were dead. And empty.
Everything, empty.
“No!” I yelled, stopping to clutch my head.
 It couldn’t be like that again! Not now. Not ever. Not after finding my
kinth again.
I turned towards the wraith as a window shattered. But it didn’t pursue
me. It was going berserk. Just wrecking everything. I felt a pang of sadness.
Cindy worked hard for her things. And this wraith was just destroying it
all.
But they were just things.
I kept ascending the tree trunk, checking into people’s tree-closes. But I
found no one.
More rooms. And still, no pixies.
Until I reached the penthouse. My own tree-close. With a shivering
hand, not helped by the piercing screech of the wraith, I pulled the curtain
apart.
My heart leapt. From disbelief. From joy.
“Brivvy! Where is everyone?” I asked, closing the curtain behind me.
“Don’t ye remember? The Moot is just above the trunk. We’re all hiding
there. Ye the only one we were waiting for.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and let Brivvy take my hand as we made our
way up the round staircase, up the rest of the tree trunk and to a flat,
circular expanse hidden by the many branches of the Tree o’ Many Gifts.
Adair was there. And so were all the others. And sitting behind the mass
of pixies was the feline, looking as frightened as everyone else.
“All here?” I asked, yelling so they could hear me over the only slightly
muffled cacophony of the wraith.
“I’m not!” Chix shouted back. Her sister smacked her head.
I eyed the feline. He eyed me back, before licking his paw and using it to
clean his ears.
 I nodded. A truce it was, then!
“Everyone,” Brivvy announced. “This ain’t a laughing matter. There’s a
monster in the house. We don’ know when Cindy and Guy are getting back.
When they do, they’ll protect us. But, until then, we must hide.”
“But what if it comes to the Tree?” Neacht asked.
Brivvy considered her words. Carefully. I resisted blurting out. Didn’t
take much resisting. My body was feeling a teensy bit weak. I slumped
down to rest. Just for a sec.
“If it comes to the Tree,” Brivvy continued. “Then we will flee.”
“Flee?” a few of the pixies asked, aghast. “This is our home!”
“We’ve had homes before. We will find a new one. Or return when it’s
safe,” Brivvy explained calmly, but I heard the pain in her voice. She didn’t
want to go either.
“Where will we go?” Chix asked, now serious. “We didn’t have a home
on Earth till here.”
Quite a few pixies grumbled their response. The feline meowed his
assent.
“We can come back!” Brivvy argued. “But only if we’re alive. If it
comes here, we must fly.”
“Um, Brivvy. He doesn’t look up to flying,” Adair chimed in.
A dozen eyes suddenly rested on me. Brivvy’s eyes widened in horror as
she rushed to my side.
“Stop ye fussing!” I wheezed. “I’m fine.”
“Yer wing is torn. How’d ye even get up here?” Adair asked.
I waved aside their concern. “I’m fine! Really.”
“Shut up!” Brivvy snapped. She sniffed, and I saw her glow weaken. She
disappeared behind me back. I winced as she tied something around me
wing.
“Ow! What was that? You trying to strangle me wing?”
Brivvy slapped me and I hushed. The entire kinth did.
“Ye’re all that’s left,” she whispered, leaning in as she rubbed the mark
on my cheek where her hand had just assaulted me.
“All that’s left of what?”
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes, before turning to the rest of the
kinth. This was all punctuated by more shattering and the screaming of the
wraith. The feline let his head fall low, as if hiding. His eyes were level
with our own, as he watched Brivvy.
“When it comes for us,” she started, her words already dripping with
finality. “We flee.”
“What about Duer?”
“I’ll carry him,” Brivvy replied.
“What about Alex?” another pixie asked.
The feline’s ears pricked up as his name was called.
Brivvy shook her head.
“He’ll find a way out.”
“But what about…”
More arguments came. Desperate. Silly. Urgent. The pixies of the kinth
tried to negotiate with Brivvy. To argue for staying when they knew they
couldn’t. Even Alex meowed, as if arguing back. But it wasn’t worth it. It
was just a matter of time before the wraith came outside.
And then what would we do?
I felt stinging from my wings. The world was growing faint. Fainter.
I’d felt like this before. Twice before. When I’d hidden in the helmet of a
giant, and then again when I fled from them.
 The wraith screamed into my head. I clutched my temples, not able to
hear the words of Brivvy and the kinth anymore.
I could only hear the screams. Not the wraiths.
Mine.
“No!” I shouted. The kinth went silent as all eyes fell on me.
Brivvy, eyes full of concern, ran towards me. I realised I had stood up.
Before I could fall, she caught me.
“No…” I repeated.
Brivvy didn’t say a thing, as the pixies and the feline approached closer,
listening.
“I’m…I’m sick of hiding. I’m sick of running away.”
“We have to, Duer,” Brivvy said, running her hand through my hair. The
crunch of wood punctuated her words.
“But what happens when we do?” I continued. “Some of us survive.
Maybe. But then we lose another home. And more of us die in the cold. No!
I’m sick of leaving everywhere that I love. And more than that. That wraith
is tearing up me friend’s house. Our friend! Cindy works hard for each and
every one of us. And now that someone is attacking her stuff, ye want to
flee?”
“Duer…it’s just stuff…”
“No, Brivvy. It’s more than just stuff. It’s always more than just stuff.
This is her home. It’s our home. And that shitey black bag is wrecking it.
It’s wrecking every second of life we put into it. We may not die if we flee,
but a part of us will. Cause a part of us has died every time we’ve fled.”
“What…what do we do?” Adair asked, stammering.
I looked at him, and he flinched. I didn’t know what he saw. But I hope it
struck him with awe.
 “We fight, me kinth. Cause that’s what Cindy deserves. What Maddy
deserves. What we deserve! Cause they wouldn’t flee if it was the Tree
being burnt. So, we can’t flee just cause it’s a giant’s house.”
“But…we’re so small…” Brivvy stammered, her glow a mere whimper.
“And when has that ever stopped us?!”
Ignore all the times it has.
Brivvy let go of me, and I remained standing. My voice grew louder.
“We’re pixies, dammit! Not them flightless brownies or nerdy gnomes.
We’re the fair folk. The Ironwings. The bloodiest blighters ye ever did see!
And this is our bloody home.”
A few of the pixies let out a cheer in response.
“We aren’t just gardeners and tree-singers. We’re warriors. Every single
one of ye. And it’s time we use our blades again!”
The collective glow of the kinth grew to the intensity of a summer sun.
So much that the feline closed his eyes. And I smiled knowing that Brivvy,
involuntary or not, was glowing too.
“But,” Adair chimed in. “Ye can’t fly with that wing. Not for a long
time. What ye gonna do?”
I looked at the cat, and he looked back, his ears twitching with palpable
suspicion.
“I’ve got me-self an idea or two…”
***
Sharpen the spears. Forge the swords. The pixies are going to war.
We didn’t know what that meant. I’d never even killed an insect. How
was I meant to fight against the darkness?
I wished again and again that it didn’t have to happen to me. But there
was another wish that topped it all. That it didn’t have to happen to them.
 And for them, I’d fight, and I’d die. And I’d do it all again.
***
The wraith had not ceased its wails. I didn’t know where Cindy was, but
she had to be knee-deep in monster guts to not come tearing back home to
defend it.
Which meant that it was up to me.
No. Us.
The fastest flyers among us, which took much debate, quietly slinked
back into the house, through the kitchen window. The wraith was going to
come outside eventually but, in battle, always fight on your terms. Never
wait for the enemy. Me captain told me that. Brivvy remembered it too.
So, we lay in wait, while we sent our own into the darkness of the giant’s
dwelling. I waited, feverishly, and watched the door from across the yard.
I gritted me teeth hard. Should’ve been me in there. And I wanted it to
be me.
They be getting all the glory.
Damn me wing. And damn Brivvy for not letting me even be a part of
the trap!
“Much too dangerous!” I mimicked.
I heard soft murmuring from below, and a rumble between me thighs.
“So? What do ye know?” I replied, scathingly, anticipating a harsh
reaction from my companion.
Before there was any reply, the wraiths perpetual wailing turned into
yelling. Primordial rage.
I held my breath as golden lights shimmered through the other side of
the glass. The glows of the pixies surrounding the doorway dimmed. There
was more cacophony from inside. Scraping. Crunching. And raging as the
wraith was whipped again and again by a pixie’s tongue.
Suddenly, the pixies flew out the hole in the window and the flap in the
door, dashing into the garden and towards me. And, on their tail, bursting
through the door, was the wraith.
Parts of the door splintered and ripped apart, while the wraith passed
ethereally through other sections. Seems he didn’t have to break things. He
just wanted to.
The wraith didn’t relent as it charged through the door, flailing with its
bladed fingers. It stopped for a second and, as its eyes fixed on the fleeing
pixies, it missed out all the others, arrayed around the doorway, the rooftop
and behind him.
We had him right where we wanted him!
“Attack!” Brivvy bellowed, her sweet voice becoming a sonorous war
cry as it echoed across the battlefield.
And I saw it all again. A hundred pixies swooping into battle with spears
made from splinters. But our hearts were strong. They still are.
We glided towards the monsters who marched into our home. And, on
the plateau of Gr’edo, we fought.
Brivvy led the charge then. And she led the charge now. On Gr’edo, we
didn’t have our widgets and contraptions. But here, things were different.
Dropping all around the wraith, pixies blared all manner of sounds and
launched a multitude of sights. Music, cacophony, bells and whistles,
peppered with shining tassels strewn across the beast’s face. It flailed,
trying to hit our sorties. But pixies dodged and weaved, tying ribbons
around the wraith’s bladed fingers. All this enraged him more, as he tore
into the yard, covered in a swarm of golden light.
 I ached to get back in the fight. I couldn’t see Brivvy too well from here.
But she would be in the thick of it. In harm’s way. And I didn’t like that.
Not one bit.
But she’d told me to wait.
And it had been an order from me warleader.
A golden light dimmed, and I almost charged forward. But the pixies
didn’t relent. They kept up the swarm, leading the wraith in its anger to step
closer, closer, towards the circle of flowers in the grass.
“I’ll kill you all!” the wraith bellowed, temporarily comprehensible
through his piercing screams.
“Ye couldn’t kill a fish on a cutting board, mate!” I heard yells back.
“Gotta hide behind ye mask so ye don’t embarrass ye-self?”
“Why don’t ye go home to ye hole, ye corporeal bag of fart!”
That was a good one!
“Scatter!” Brivvy yelled, cutting one of the insults short.
Like disciplined shock troops, the pixies scattered, leaving the singers at
the foot of the wraith.
Maddy’s friend with the magic once tried to explain to me what
checkmating meant. I think I knew now.
With an immediate chorus and melody, flowers with thick green stems
covered in silver string shot from the ground, roping their way around the
wraith. Panicked, the wraith tried to fly up, but the plants were too fast.
They strangled him, contorting his dark form and emitting smoke as the
silver made contact.
I hope the giants forgave us our theft. Apparently, that was a thing they
didn’t quite like. But if it meant banishing wraiths, I’d steal some more
silver.
 The wraith struggled some more, its mask twisting and rotating to try
find a weak point. But it couldn’t flex its claws through the silver restraints
and, as it gave one last huff, it fell to the ground silently. It had no weight to
make any sort of vibrations or sound.
We’d done it.
I saw her now. A cascade of black hair and a glow that could only be
hers. Brivvy. Me warleader. Me…I don’t know. She flew above the wraith,
out of harm’s way, and assessed the scene.
The wraith wasn’t struggling. Perhaps, even a wraith’s rage could ebb
away? I doubt we’d exhausted his body. He didn’t have a body.
Brivvy nodded as she examined each restraint. She’d had the same
pleased glow when she’d examined our weapons.
“They’re good enough. And that’s all they need to be,” she’d said.
And it reassured us all. Again, and again.
Brivvy froze. My leg’s tightened and I heard a displeased grumble in
response.
But I didn’t care about that.
One of the tree-singers held tightly onto one of the stems. But why? It
was silver-enforced and blessed by our magic. The wraith couldn’t cut
through it.
With an explosion of soil, the wraith uprooted the plants, and drove its
blade towards the tree-singer. But Brivvy was faster. She dove towards the
tree-singer and shoved her out of the way. Instead, the blades cut into her,
spitting both her wings as the wraith brought her up to its mask.
My mind went blank. All I had any thought to do was to kick my legs
together and lean forward.
 Alex the War-Cat charged from our hiding place in the bushes by the
Tree o’ Many Gifts. His black and white fur streaked and blurred as he shot
towards the wraith like the wind. And I rode atop him, holding me spear.
Just a splinter. And it had always just been a splinter.
But it was good enough. It had to be.
The wraith held Brivvy up by her wings. He didn’t scream. A predator
didn’t need to be angry before the kill.
And, in me mind’s eye, the wraith became something else. A dark giant
of evil power, holding Miri in his fist. And I’d only held a splinter then.
Alex kept charging, as if our minds were one. And we didn’t feel fear
here. There was no more room for that. No more hiding. No more running.
With its spare hand, the wraith lashed out towards us. Alex ducked low,
causing the blades only to cut the tips of my hair. In me mind, I spiralled
past a blast of dark energy, as the evil giant sent corruption towards me.
The wraith spun, and I pulled Alex’s fur, redirecting him. He hissed as
we darted below the wraith. Just as I’d flown under the evil giant.
But the wraith was too far off the ground.
And I knew how this ended…
“We gotta jump, me friend.”
Alex meowed his assent. He didn’t argue. Good cat.
I hefted me spear and held it ready to throw. We only had one chance.
One chance to save both of them.
Alex turned, and faced the wraith once again. He gave a final hiss. A
battle cry. And charged. And I charged, diving down towards Miri, me
spear at the ready. Ready to die.
For her.
For both of them.
 Alex leapt, and I jumped. Pain wracked through me wings and body, but
I held them aloft. For just a second longer. A second.
Brivvy stared at me as I held me spear. Miri did the same.
Would it matter if I didn’t see them again?
Yes.
But it would be worth it if they survived.
I threw the spear.
As the wood left my hand, I was pulled into the rift and left Gr’edo
behind. But, the last thing I saw, was Miri looking back at me, her wings
free, and me people victorious.
I closed me eyes and let me-self fall to the earth.
The sensation was different from the rift. There were no voidcreeps. No
terrors of the In Between. Just the rush of air by me ears.
And someone yelling my name.
Hands caught me, as we both tumbled into soft, warm fur below. Alex
purred, deeply, as he looked up towards the wraith, as its body closed in on
itself, and disappeared.
“I…I didn’t think that’d work…” I muttered.
Miri appeared above me. She smiled, weakly. I felt tears welling up in
my eyes and I blinked them away. Black hair replaced auburn. The short
hair grew, cascading to the ground. I felt warm hands around me. Holding
me tight.
Tears fell from Brivvy’s eyes, and her glow was dim. There were holes
in her wings. But she cradled me all the same.
Like she always had.
“Brivvy…”
 She stopped me, as her lips met mine. I resisted, for a moment, but
then…
I don’t know.
I didn’t move on. But maybe, I realised what I’d known all along.
“I’ll never stop loving her,” I said, as I pulled away. She flinched, but I
placed my hand on her cheek.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t also love you.”
Under the canopy of the Tree o’ Many Gifts, as the wraith’s body
disappeared forever, on the side of a now snoozing cat, Brivvy and I kissed.
And our glow challenged the sun.
***
The front door, somehow spared the wraith’s onslaught, opened quietly,
revealing a giant with short blonde hair and scarified runes across her arms.
A darker giant carrying those metal weapon things that made the big boom
followed. Both were dumbstruck by the still visible damage to the house.
Pixies buzzed this way and that, mending what they could. But there’s
only so much we could do. Especially that, while none of the kinth had
died, a lot of us were now flightless. In the meanwhile. None of us doubted
that we’d get our flight back though.
We’re pixies. We’re tough.
Cindy approached Brivvy and me, our hands entwined, as we directed
the reconstruction efforts. Adair saluted us and then whizzed past to go
repair the now annihilated door he was trying to fix earlier.
I noted the quick calculation in Cindy’s eyes as I stared up at her. She
was angry, but she saw the hole in me wing and the holes in Brivvy’s. She
took a deep breath.
 “Um, Duer…Brivvy…what in the In Between happened?” Cindy asked,
her voice on the cusp of rage.
I waved my hand away dismissively.
“It’s all sorted out, light-lady. No need to butt into our pixie business.”
Cindy looked on the verge of arguing, but Guy took her by the shoulder
and shook his head. She sighed.
“Well, if you need any healing, you know where I’ll be.”
She trudged off, defeated, but accepting.
Brivvy squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.
“Ye probably want me to tell her everything, don’t ye,” I asked, rolling
me eyes.
“Why? This was pixie business. No need to get her involved.”
I looked at Brivvy’s face, and she grinned. I glowed back. And we both
glowed together as the kinth rebuilt our home. Because it was our home.
And we weren’t leaving. Ever again.

I hope you enjoyed this short story about everyone’s favourite pixie!
Make sure to check out all the other books in the series:
https://nicholaswoodesmith.com/kat-reading-order/