Pixie Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 1) Read online

  “So, um, Lom, what do you really do? What was that thing?” She sat down on the couch next to me. There really wasn’t anywhere else to sit in the tiny dwelling. I took a gulp of too hot coffee to try and delay my answers to those loaded questions.

  “Well, I am not doing any longer what I’ve spent most of my adult life at. I got called into service a few days ago.”

  She lifted that eyebrow at me. I regarded the line of her jaw as it tightened with a slight head tilt, and thought for about the dozenth time since I had first seen her that I was going to have to either learn control or become an eunuch.

  “The service of the Court?”

  I felt apologetic as I explained. “Not exactly. Your service, specifically.”

  I might as well have struck her in the face. She flinched back. “What? I don’t want that.”

  I sighed. I wanted to rub my face, but a half cup of still steaming coffee in my hand kept me from it.

  “I told you we needed to talk. Let me begin at the beginning?”

  She leaned back and nodded. Her face was tight and unhappy. I took a deep breath, and then decided I needed to stand and pace a little.

  “How much do you know about your heritage?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “My grandmother used to tell stories. About fairies, and then when I was older I realized that they were about real people. After my mother died, when I moved in with them, she told me more. And she taught me how to use my Sight.”

  “That’s why you knew I was a pixie.”

  She nodded. “I should have used it on the troll.”

  She looked so dejected I took pity on her. “Why would you? You weren’t expecting trouble. I’m guessing you do not scan for the Folke everytime you meet a stranger.” Which meant she had been looking for me? Now, that was an interesting thought.

  “No, well, sometimes when I meet someone I’ve never seen before.”

  “Have you ever met any?” I walked into the kitchen and put the empty coffee cup on the counter.

  “Other than you? Yes, a couple others.”

  “So you know that there are other things than fairies out there, you knew I was a pixie. What did Lavendar tell you about your magic, and that of other species?”

  “I don’t have any magic!” She looked as startled as she sounded. “I’m only a little bit of fairy. I just don’t understand why they want me to come back to them. Lavendar left, and she wouldn’t talk about why, but I do know she never wanted to go back, or for me to go back. She told me...” Bella stopped talking and looked away from me, toward the door, pressing her lips together.

  I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. She didn’t trust me, even now. “Let me guess, she told you to never trust a fairy or a pixie. To run if you saw a goblin coming.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing bad about pixies. She told me that fairies never meant what they said, and goblins are defilers of all that is good.”

  I was surprised to hear that Lavendar had borne no ill-will toward pixies. That would have been an interesting story, but it was too late to hear it.

  “I don’t have time to give you all the details. That will have to be filled in later. You really are an heir to the High Court.”

  “An heir?” She interrupted me. “How many are there? And how can I possibly be an heir, I’m not...” She waved her hand. “All fairy.”

  “The fairy line hasn’t been pure since the human race came along.” I chuckled. “Fairies and humans don’t cross breed easily, but that doesn’t keep them from trying.”

  She looked taken aback at that. Evidently she had never thought through her grandparents having sex before.

  I went on. “And that has been part of the problem, too. Fairy is... not a fertile species. Children borne to fairy and human parents are usually sterile, like a mule.”

  Now she raised both her eyebrows, but I had her full attention.

  “The succession for the Queen of High Court is matrilineal and it’s partly a meritocracy. Out of the females of each generation to the royal family, one is chosen to be Queen. In order to choose one, they are required to serve at Court for a time. That is what you are going to have to do.”

  She sat up straight. “I do not want to. How do I say no?”

  I shook my head. “You don’t have a choice. It’s a duty that you are required to fulfill.”

  “No one can make me.”

  “Ordinarily, I would say that was something you could get away with.” I sat down next to her, facing her. She was very tense, and on the verge of jumping up, I could see. “But there is something else going on here. That’s why the troll was after you.”

  “After me? It was an accident.” She had forgotten what I told her at the scene. No surprise, she was under a lot of stress.

  “No, it was an ambush.” I was speaking softly and as matter-of-factly as I could. She was practically vibrating with unhappiness. “He, or whoever he was working with,” I couldn’t get the dumb look in his eyes out of my head, “used magic to send a fake radio message they knew you would respond to. He’s a troll, he had an affinity for bridges, that’s likely why they used that.”

  I took her hand, and she didn’t resist. Her hand was warm and calloused. “He was going to kill you and it is my job to stop that from happening.”

  “I...” she stopped. She looked like she had lost all the breath in her body.

  “It’s going to happen again. This is why I was sent, instead of overnight mail. Because the heirs have been dying. Your mother’s generation is almost gone. Two of your generation are dead. There were only seven of you to begin with.” I was doing my best to sound reasonable, rather than ‘listen to me you silly twit.’

  She sank back into the cushions, her face pale. She didn’t let go of my hand.

  “I’m not important enough to bother with.” She told me quietly. “Can’t I renounce it, or something? Abdicate?”

  In this position I was very close to her. She smelled of soap and water and girl, and I swallowed. I would have given anything to assure her it would be all right, she could just say no and everything would leave her alone.

  “That is not an option. They are going to come after you, after anyone who they can use as a lever, until they get to you.”

  “Who are ‘they,’ and are you saying my family might be in danger?”

  The door rattled, and we both jumped.

  Chapter 4 - Flight from Alaska

  Raven walked in, back in his guise of wrinkled old codger. I no longer bought into this; having seen him in action I knew he was ageless. I found that I was standing between her and the door, I had moved into defensive position without even being aware of it. I sighed, and sat back down.

  Bella sat up straight. “Uncle.” She reached her hands out to him and he dropped his coat on a chair with mine and took them.

  “You have to go, I know.” The way he said that, sadly but with certainty, surprised me. I had expected an argument from both of them.

  “I don’t have to go anywhere.” She insisted. She looked at me.

  “Child,” he told her gently, “I can protect you, if you stayed here, in my house.”

  “Then that is what I will do.” She set her chin in what I was beginning to associate with her more stubborn moments.

  “But for how long, and what about your family?”

  I had to wonder how long he had been listening at the door. I didn’t buy into his knowing everything. Powerful, certainly. A god, certainly not.

  “You love too well, child.”

  I looked at her and saw her face crumple. There were no tears, yet, although I had a sense that she was fighting it.

  “Then I must go.”

  He nodded. “I can make sure you are safe until you leave my territory. After you are gone, I can make certain your family is safe.” He looked at me with those grey eyes. “Are her enemies likely to come after the family?”

  I shook my head at him. Bella was the only person they wanted here
.

  “Then you must go.”

  She buried her face in her hands. I almost didn’t hear her muffled question. “Can I ever come home again?”

  I looked at the old man, and we stared at one another for a long moment. He had decided to trust me, I saw. His eyes were relaxed and he nodded slightly.

  “I don’t know.” I answered her honestly, after deciding that I had better start telling her the truth as much as I was able to. “There are five remaining heirs. If one of the others is chosen for Queen, then you will be released from Court.”

  “Like Lavendar was.” She looked up and I could see the tears had started. “So how long will it take?”

  “Service in the court is timeless.” I told her formally, hoping she would catch from my tone that I was quoting.

  “Lavendar told me that fairies live long, Underhill. That they only age while they are in the human realm, and humans are affected oddly by the passing of time between the two planes. That is where the stories of men who live a hundred years Underhill, yet age and die in days when they return home, come from.”

  I nodded. She had the idea. It could be a very long time before she came back here. “You can’t say goodbye. But you ought to be able to get in touch with them as we travel, and during your time at Court. These aren’t the days of paper mail, any longer.”

  “We need to leave...” she faltered a little. “Right now?”

  Raven answered for me. “Yes, and not go to the airport.” He cocked his head to one side, a faroff look in his eyes, as though he were listening to something outside our perceptions. “There are enemies between you and your return ticket, I am afraid.” He looked at me and grinned. “Lom.”

  He knew my real name. During that foray into spirit journey he must have seen into my mind. I frowned back at him, trying to convey my deep displeasure at his discovery. He cackled like the bird he was.

  “In town?” I asked him, hoping he’d keep the secret to himself. He had a reputation for enjoying a good joke. Of course, some of the stories about his jokes also involved a woman wearing bird droppings and thinking they were high fashion.

  He shook his head. “They have found the car on the bridge. You will have to return to town by another route. Also, I believe they know where you are staying, Lom. There are two strange men who are hanging out in the Tok Lodge bar. They arrived about the time the Troll passed through town.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “Figures. Well, not the first time I have had to cut and run. The rental car is easily taken care of, and this,” I patted the case that was standing near the couch. “Is all that really matters.”

  Bella eyed it. “Destroying or losing it will not help you, princess.” I warned her. She gave me a dirty look indeed.

  Raven held up his hand, palm outward. Even that was wrinkled, and had what appeared to be centuries-old dirt embedded in wrinkles and scars. A hand with a lot of character. We both stopped talking obediently and looked at him. He beamed at us.

  “Before you leave, children, I will give you a meal.”

  Bella groaned. My stomach grumbled. It had been a long time, and a fight, between breakfast and now, whenever now was. I looked at my watch. Well past lunchtime, verging on dinner.

  “We don’t have much daylight, Uncle,” she protested.

  “You need your strength.”

  Silently, I agreed with him. Now that food had been mentioned, I was starving.

  “Bella girl, set the table. Lom, put some wood on the fire.” He shot his orders at us and turned his back, reaching into the crude cupboards that made up his pantry. I shrugged at her helpless look and grabbed my jacket and gloves. I had seen the woodpile, so I could handle this little chore.

  I stepped out the door and noticed two things instantly. One, it was a lot colder than it had been when we’d come in. Two, the reason for that was, it was dark now. I had not realized just how short the days were here. It was almost spring, and still it was dark. Dammit. I hated not being able to see them coming.

  The snow reflected the starlight well, so I found the woodpile and gathered an armload with no incidents. I stood there in silence for a long moment, listening. The old spirit might have his spies out, but I preferred to rely on my own senses.

  It was quieter than any place I had ever been before. Only a slight, muffled clatter from the house broke the stillness. I closed my eyes and used my inner sight to look for Power. It was like seeing stars in the sky, Underhill. Sparks bright and dim would spangle the world around me. Here, the old man glowed like a beacon. Bella’s warm yellow flame drew me, then I looked upward and saw the dull lights of the ravens under his control.

  I opened my eyes and relinquished the power, blinking to get my eyes back in focus. The clearing around the house remained empty, and I walked across the squeaking snow back to the door. I stamped my feet to get snow off and Bella opened the door. I smiled my thanks as I pushed by into the house.

  She showed me the woodbox behind the stove and I dumped the stack into it.

  “Cold out there.”

  She nodded and took my coat as I peeled it off. “Probably about twenty below. Not bad at all.”

  I felt my eyebrows lift. “Not bad?”

  She grinned suddenly. “How much did you research the area?”

  “Obviously, not enough.” I sniffed. “What is that?”

  “Moose burgers.” Raven announced. “You took long enough. Almost ready.”

  I sat at the little table. A pair of folding chairs had been produced to join the single upholstered one that appeared to be almost as old as Raven. Spattered enamel plates and mismatched cutlery finished the set-up. It felt... homey. I relaxed a little. It wasn’t often I could stop worrying about the next threat, but Raven had the watch.

  Bella sat in the other folding chair with a suppressed moan.

  “Bruised?”

  “A bit. I went down right on my...” She rubbed at the affected area. “When that monster dropped me. What was that, anyway?”

  “Norwegian Troll.” Raven put two slabs of homemade bread on my plate and walked back to the stove where a skillet was sizzling and sending off mouth-watering odors of cooking meat. “Big and dumb. They have an affinity for bridges, and while they’re hard enough to kill at any time, on a bridge it’s damn near impossible.”

  “I put three .44 hollowpoints in his back,” she asserted as she leaned back from Raven, who was now wielding a hot pan. He slid a moose patty onto her bread. She flipped the other piece on top and gave it a little squish.

  “Yeah, that got his attention until I put a bullet in his eye. It wouldn’t have stopped him, though.”

  “Oh.” She took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully. I imitated her. “Mmmm...” She purred. “Raven, you make the best burgers.”

  He grinned, showing a set of improbably white and perfect teeth. “Flattery will get you everywhere, niece.”

  I had to agree with her. I didn’t know what he had put in to flavor the meat, but now I understood why there were no condiments on the table. Garlic, onion, spices... and juicy. I swallowed and sighed.

  “Thank you.” I inclined my head to him in a formal Japanese style, and he returned that gravely.

  “There are three things one should never do on an empty stomach. Fleeing, fighting and...”

  “Uncle!” Bella interrupted him with a laugh.

  “I get it.” I was chuckling at their byplay. “And I appreciate you feeding us. But how are we supposed to get back to town?”

  “Snowgo,” he answered promptly. “You can take it in to town, and call your cousin Tex to fly you out from there.” This part he addressed to Bella, who nodded. I was still trying to figure out what a snowgo was.

  He stood up, reached behind the ratty couch, and hauled out a snowshoe. I stared at it in horror. It was damned cold outside, and more than twenty miles back to town, and he expected us to walk?

  Raven offered the snowshoe to Bella. “Dessert?”

  She burst into l
aughter as I wondered if they had both gone mad.

  When she got her giggles mostly under control she turned to me, “Aunt Mya made Raven a birthday cake a few years back. She’s a really good cake decorator, so she decided she would make a snowshoe-shaped cake for him. He took one look at it and refused to eat it.”

  Raven broke in. “It looked real. And you don’t know that woman’s sense of humor! I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  His exaggerated look of grievance made me chuckle again. I understood what he was doing, clowning about to keep Bella’s mind off the events of the day. She was looking better, more color in her cheeks with food and the laugh. Time to get moving, while we could still evade our enemies.

  She put her plate on the counter next to a dishpan and I imitated her.

  “You’re not washing up, girl.” he scolded her. “Get some more layers for this boy.” He pointed at me. I was amused at his command.

  She looked at me, and smiled. Suddenly I wasn’t so amused. That look held a lot of mischief, and she had reasons not to be happy with me.

  Ten minutes later I waddled out the door. I was wearing about three more layers than I had been, and most of them had obviously been made for children. Even my shoes had been stuffed into a backpack, while my feet (in an extra layer of socks) were stuffed into a pair of moon boots I would have bet good money were made sometime in the 1980s. They were warmer than my shoes had been, I would admit.

  The crowning insult was the hat, an erratically knitted affair made from variegated rainbow yarn. It was lined with rabbit fur, had a bobble on top, and earflaps. Bella had handed it to me with a funny little smile. I had looked at the thing in my hand in horror.

  “I made that,” she told me.

  I looked up at her and wondered whether to tell her the truth.

  “Horrible, isn’t it?” she went on cheerfully. “I was eight, and just learning how to knit. I gave it up after a few tries, I think this might be the only thing left. It is warm, though, really.”

  I sighed, and put it on. She hid her mouth behind her hand, but I could see the smile in her eyes.

  Now, standing on the porch, I had to admit that at least I couldn’t see it, and it was keeping my ears warm. Bella went around the corner, having asked me to stay put. A moment later I hear the roar of a small engine, and she reappeared on a snowmachine.