We took our position at the back of the house, next to a small door leading to a root cellar. “What do we do next?” I asked excited that the moment I’d waited for had finally arrived.
“Nothing.” Came the unexpected answer.
“We don’t need to conjure anything this time.” Sellion laughed at the disappointment showing on my face. “Don’t worry, there’ll be a show and the humans will learn their lesson, only we’ll leave it to the fae folk to teach it.”
“They live here? I mean, I know they live in the human realm and all, but I never expected them to really be in our woods.”
“Yes,” he smiled at my child-like excitement, “some of the more timid ones like the added protection of an elf’s presence. Others enjoy teaching lessons.” He ended using air quotes for emphasis.
“So that is why we are watching the cellar door. A brownie lives here.”
Sellion nodded at the same time the sound of crunching rocks could be heard. A moment later the couple came into view cautiously approaching the cellar door. We watched as the girl knelt down removing her knapsack, hands shaking as she reached in and pulled out a plastic bowl and a container of honey. She removed the lid exposing the porridge within, and applied some honey.
“Brownies don’t like plastic you know,” an unexpected whisper like voice said startling the girl so badly that the bowl flew from her hands nearly landing on me.
A giggle of excitement welled up inside me as I watched the small pale form as she observed the couple’s reaction. Though I’d heard they visited our realm occasionally, this was the first one I’d seen. She was taller than I expected, about six inches in height, with large round eyes and silky blond hair that fell just below her shoulders. She was draped with gossamer lace giving an added touch of grace to her already elegant form.
“Th…they don’t?” the guy stammered, looking for the source of the voice.
“Nope, it’s unnatural. They’d rather feel clay or stone, something from the earth,” the pixie answered from a rock beside the door, arms wrapped around her knees looking from one human to the other.
Having recovered enough from their shock to form semi-coherent sentences, the couple knelt down to face with their new companion. “You’re a faery,” exclaimed the guy.
Standing, she began to brush away imaginary soil, then adjusted her form fitting dress. “Close, but no cigar. I’m a pixie,” she said shyly, batting her eyes. “My names Prissy, what’s yours?”
“Oh, um…Thomas and this is my sister Thelma,” he replied placing his hand on his sister’s back. “Pleased to meet you, Prissy.”
“What an interesting name,” Thelma chimed in.
“Not really. My parents hung around a lot of hippies when I came to be. They didn’t like the practice of naming a child Moonbeam, Sunshine, or Roadkill, but both liked human names. Mother wanted Pricilla, but father like Missy. So in true hippy tradition, they blended the two and came up with Prissy.”
“How interesting,” Thomas said mesmerized by the tiny form.
“Is it?” Prissy asked extending her wings, flying onto his shoulder. “Rumor has it that you like pixies.” She cooed rubbing her face on his, eyelashes fluttering.
“Yes, I was telling Thelma on the way here how I hoped we would see a pixie.”
“But she likes brownies,” Prissy pouted leaving her perch to fly in front of Thelma. “Why do you want a brownie?”
“Well, I…” Thelma began.
“You want him to be your BFF?” Prissy’s eyes filled with concern as she flew closer to grab Thelma’s face turning it side to side to evaluate. “Is there something wrong with you that you can’t you get a human BFF?”
“No,” Thelma said leaning back to put a little space between her and the pixie.
“Then why the offering?” Prissy asked flying back to the rock.
“I don’t know how to explain…”
“Let me try,” Prissy’s tone became firm her hands resting to her hips. “You want to enslave him.”
“NO,” Thelma said emphatically.
“Oh give me a break. Humans are selfish and only think of their needs. How much have you been offered, a million, two million?”
“No, it’s not like that,” Thelma said meekly, tears streaming down her face.
Enraged, Prissy grew to twice her size, eyes flaring into balls of fire. The lovely gossamer dress replaced by a leather breast plate and skirt with gauntlets covering her forearms, sword in her hand. “How dare you come into our woods you vile, foul creatures? Run and if you’re lucky you might make it out alive. NOW!” She lunged, sword pointed, mouth open exposing long, razor sharp teeth.