Page 84 of Faerie Fate
“Elfhame is unwilling to take visitors,” the pixie continued.
The sword remained steady and pointed between her eyes.
“Tell her Poppy is here, then, and judge her reaction for yourself.” Poppy tapped her foot. “I’m not leaving until we speak to Elfhame.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.
Did all pixies’ names start the same way? Elfwaite was one of my best friends. Maybe it was just a strange coincidence.
We waited for the sword to lower.
Eventually the sword disappeared. The door slammed.
“Seriously? How rude.” Bronwen lifted her hand to knock and Poppy stilled her with narrowed eyes.
“Wait.”
A few moments later, the door reopened and another pixie greeted us, her glow a warm violet color and her wings fluttering fast.
“Poppy. It’s been a long time since you’ve visited,” the pixie said.
My stomach dropped, then soared. “Elfwaite!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The 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.
