A week! Can he even do all that in a week?“So when will I see you again?” I ask, fighting hard to hide the panic screaming
within.“Rosalie, I’ll still come by each morning and evening to give you rations and fresh buckets. I wish I could be here all day with
you, but I just can’t right now. But don’t worry. Chances are slim anyone’s going to show up to give you a hard time. Just keep
building up your leg strength.”
I feel a slight tremble in my limbs when he steps toward me and embraces me in a light hug. Man, three inches difference sucks
when we stand! He curls to rest his chin atop my head, and I place my forehead just below his chest. Thump, thump, thump his heart
goes. As I wrap my arms slowly around his hips, I swear the thumping speeds up slightly.
For once the butterflies aren’t madly flapping around in my abdomen, but lightly flittering in place, as if dazed as much as I am right
now. Who would’ve thought his hold would have such a calming effect on me?“Just think, Rosalie.”“Hmm?” I murmur.“In a week you’ll
be stepping on dirt and grass and breathing in fresh air. Taking baths in a river instead of splashing yourself with water in a bucket.
And you can eat whatever you can forage.”
But I won’t have you, I think. Because you’re not going to leave your family and your home to be with me. I know that I should push my
way out of his grasp and begin the process of breaking away, sparing my heart of further longing for something unattainable…but I
just can’t. Not yet.
My legs are a little stiff from everything I’ve put them through the past several days. I’ve made three-thousand, two hundred and sixty
-five passes around my hole – yeah, I counted…it keeps me from focusing all my attention on the fullness of Jack’s lips, the wavy
hair as brown as the bark on a weeping willow, his hypnotizing mossy green eyes, his… Dang it!
Yesterday began my new ritual of leg squats. I didn’t really understand what they were until Jack demonstrated them – most fae don’
t bother strengthening their legs, since it’s our wings that really support our weight. Now I regret taking these on. My legs have never
ached so much in my life! And it’s awkward to sit on the floor and stretch them out without poking myself with a rocky protuberance.
Walking continuous circles helps, but I still feel the pull when I overextend my step.
So I’ve been a complete chicken when it comes to looking at my wings. I couldn’t resist a fearful peek that first day. What I saw was
devastating. Today when I find the courage to peek again, my heart continues to break. The outer cartilage that keeps my wings
strong and shaped is completely mangled, with so many breaks I dare not count. The intricate pattern of veins and crossveins is
completely shredded, and I fear they’ll never align and heal to their former glory. How can I move forward without wings? The magic
coursing through our wings define who the fae are. Am I to be the only pixie in my Hollow doomed to walk the forest floor the rest of
my years? Never tiptoe across the forest canopy or walk on water again? I glance at my wings and fear the answer is yes. If I ever
considered myself an outsider amongst pixies before, I’m sure a lack of wings will put a permanent stamp on it. Caution – this pixie
broken in every way possible.
Lifting my spirits, I grin ear to ear when I see what Jack brings me to eat today. Roasted and salted cucumber seeds! I pop a few
into my mouth and moan. I know they’re delectable, but they’re too mild in flavor for my taste buds to pick up on. I really hope that
returns soon. I don’t want to live the rest of my life eating tasteless calories, or having to put something extremely pungent on my
food just to catch a whiff of flavor.“So I brought something for you to look at.”
That piques my curiosity as I grab a piece of sourdough bread to pick at. Jack pulls a piece of aged parchment from his satchel and
unfolds it six times, revealing a large drawing done by hand. He sits beside me so we can look on together. I’m in awe over what I
see: a map displaying the location of a ton of Hollows, the rivers that flow through our lands and the trails that seem to connect us all.
By the wear on the paper and aged edges, this drawing could have been made hundreds of years ago, so I have the distinct feeling
Jack isn’t supposed to have this in his possession.“So many Hollows. I never dreamed there were so many!” Elm, Ash, Lauralyn,
Willow, Cedar – the Hollows are endless on this piece of parchment, and each depicted with the drawing of the pixie in the correct
skin-tone in front of their corresponding tree type. I see my Hollow, Holly’s (Ash) and Juniper’s (Birch). Funny…I don’t see Willow’s
color depicted anywhere on here. “I always knew there were more of us out there, especially since some disappeared,” I pause at
that, wondering how many were enslaved and didn’t leave at their own volition, “but I never thought there would be so many Hollows.”
“I wonder why your own Hollow didn’t tell you that.”“I don’t know. Maybe they thought a lot more pixies would leave in search of them
if they knew. Where are we on this map right now?”“Well, it only shows pixies, but my best guess is right around here,” he says,
poking his finger at the forest on the left side of the map, far from any Hollow.“Oh, wow,” I cheerlessly reply, assessing the distance
between here and my Hollow. “I don’t know what the distance scale is on this map, but that looks like a long way to go on foot.”“It is,”
he says, sighing. “About a hundred and fifty kilometers I think.”“A hundred and fifty kilometers!” I scream. “Might as well make it a
million! I can’t walk that!”“I’m thinking you won’t have to. Look,” he says gently, motioning me to follow his finger as it traces the map.
“There’s a river that flows most of the way. You’ll have to walk quite a ways to get there, but your legs will be as fresh as they can be.
Follow this trail until it bends and keep walking straight through the forest to hit the river. Once you’re there, make a raft and travel all
the way to here, right before the waterfall. Then you’ll have to pick up on this trail to take you the rest of the way. It’s definitely going to
take some time getting there on foot, but it’s not impossible, Rosalie.”
Mother Nature, that’s far. I hide it well, but I’m already feeling a little defeated inside. And that’s just the traveling part. I’ll still have to
forage for food, find safe places to rest – because without wings, I could very well end up an easy meal for some carnivore hunting in
the woods. Then there’s those monstrous beasts guarding the prison.“What about the spriggans? Will they come after me?”“Best
guess…” he says, pausing to think as he absently rubs his chin and squints his eyes. “Probably. Finley won’t be able to risk you
telling any Hollow that they’ve been swiping pixies for slave labor. And I’m not going to lie, Rosalie. Spriggans are pretty dumb, but
they know how to survive…and track. Once you’re in the river, I don’t think they’ll be able to pick up your scent, but I suggest any time
you’re in the forest, smear your skin with any kind of scented flower you can find. And change it often so they won’t know what to
follow. But never for one second think you’re safe. Always be looking over your shoulder and be suspicious of anything your instincts
are picking up on.”
I can’t help but dwell on the number of times he uses the words your or you’re. . You’re going to have to find your way. You’re going
to have to find shelter and food. You, you, you. Not a single we’re in the bunch.
I really am going to have to do this on my own.
I release a long, deep sigh. This is suddenly becoming very real, and dangerous. A lot will have to go right in order for me to get
home again. But part of me feels dead inside, because in order to get Poppy and my fellow pixies back, I’ll have to give up Jack,
who now means more to me than any of them. Sans Poppy…I think it would sadden me as much to lose her permanently too.“Well,
getting out of this cave will be easy enough. What about the prison boundary itself? Last time I ran smack into the spriggans’
campsite. Where’s the best place to get out of here unnoticed?”“Not possible.”
My chest sinks. “Not possible?”“What I mean is that it’s not possible to avoid their campsite. It doesn’t matter which direction you
choose to go in. Once you pass through the barrier, the magic automatically dumps you at the edge of their campsite.”“Well,” I huff. “
That’s….crap.”
Amused, Jack huffs too. “I figure our best bet is to pass through around two in the morning. The spriggans should long be asleep
and after watching them the last couple of nights, they don’t seem to have anyone stay up and stand guard.”“Why would they? I’m the
only one that’s ever tried to escape and I did it in the morning light right under their noses. Those pixies can’t get out of that pit. Even
if we had stood on one another’s shoulders, there aren’t enough of us strong enough to climb that high.”“Yeah,” he replies, folding up
the map and stowing it away in his satchel again. “Well, I hate to watch you eat and run, but I’ve still got some things to plan out.”
Slightly annoyed, I complain, “You know, this escape is for my benefit. Wouldn’t it be good for me to…I don’t know…take part in
some of the actual planning?”“You just did.”“Yeah, after the fact, when you already had this part worked out.”
He flashes me an irresistible grin. “And didn’t that work out well?”
I playfully shove his shoulder. He uses the momentum to stand on his feet. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything in particular planned. I’
m just making it up as I observe what’s going on around us. Which, forgive me, but you can’t come watch. I promise I’ll run everything
by you and ask for your input once it all comes together in my head.” He grabs his satchel and loops it over his shoulder. “Besides,”
he adds with a wink, “you’ve got leg squats to do.”
I groan and chuck my bread at him as he ascends. It would’ve hit him square in the chest if he hadn’t caught it. “Nice shot. Now quit
playing with your food and eat it!” he shouts, reaching the top and tossing the sourdough back into my lap.
More leg squats…hummph!
I’m about to devour the most wonderful tasting oatmeal I’ve ever had in my life. Or at least I think I am – I’ll never know for sure since I
doubt I’ll be able to taste it. Starla made it. I see chunks of strawberries, blueberries, minced almonds and a swirl of honey on top. I
practically drool when Jack hands it to me, wisps of steam escaping the jar, a wooden spoon staked firmly in place.“Oh, wow. Wish
we had a cook like her in the Hollow. How you’re not fat I’ll never know.”
He chuckles with amusement. “If anything’ll put meat on your bones, it’s this.”
It’s thick and gooey and in a few minutes, I feel heavy inside. I chase it down with several chugs of water, not caring that he’s
entertained by me downing a bucket of water. Maybe he’s waiting to see if I choke or drop it on my head or something.“So, Mister-I’
m-making-it-up-as-I-go-along, have you come up with anything?”“Well…” Oh, no. This doesn’t sound good already. Why do his eyes
always avert to anything but me when he’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like? “Look, getting you out of this prison is
nothing. The danger is what lies outside the boundary…”“Yeah. And?” I beckon.“Rosalie…no one will look twice if all they see are
two faeries together.”
My forehead furrows, forcing my eyes to squint a bit as I try to figure out the puzzle. “O-kaaay… I’m a little short to pass as a faerie,
so what in Mother Nature are you thinking that’s going to make me look like one?”
His cheeks fill with air and I’m stuck waiting impatiently for him to blow it out slowly. “Pixie dust.”
There’s no hesitation when I scream, “Are you nuts? You can’t use pixie dust on complicated organisms like us. It never works right
and sometimes really screws up the fae.”“And sometimes it does work,” he quickly rebuts.“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one it’
ll be sprinkled on! Not to mention it’s completely forbidden and punishable with prison time.”“And that would make your life different,
how?” he scoffs.
I groan, but not from his snarky remark. My insides are growling over the heavy meal churning in my stomach. Note to self…eat
heavy meals slower.“What about passing me off as a younger faerie?” I ask, my hand instinctively covering my upset stomach.
“Yeah, Rosalie,” he mocks. “We’ll just put your nasty hair in pigtails and let you skip around.”“Uh…okay!” I mock back. “Why not? It
seems a heck of a lot better than jinxing me with dust.”“And what happens if we cross paths with a spriggan or a faerie? Your face
won’t pass as a child’s. Either way, we’d have to use pixie dust on you to make you pass. I’d rather try to raise you two inches than
try to alter your face.”
I throw my head back in frustration and groan loudly, my hands poised on my hips with attitude. I feel a rush of dizziness when I try to
roll my eyes. It’s not like he can see, so I surprise myself by even trying. My head pulls forward again. “I don’t know, Jack.”“Look, I’m
not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. How about I try experimenting with the dust? I’ll start small, like an earthworm or
something, and make my way up…determine if we can even consider this kind of magic.”
Maybe it’ll work. I just don’t know. But I feel kind of bad for anything he dusts if it doesn’t work out.
He takes my silence and lack of facial negativity as a yes, and begins to lift upward.“You’re going already?” I’ve hardly seen him
lately.“Yeah. I’ve got traps to set if I’m going to have anything to try this on.”
He departs, and I sit and lean back at an angle. I’ve got a lot of leg exercises before me today and I’m hoping this will aid my
digestion along. I have to hand it to Jack. He’s bound and determined to get me out of here, especially if he’s considering such
drastic actions as testing dust on animals. It’s frowned upon by my species, so I’m pretty sure it is by his species as well. But I
suppose with as much time as he’s spent in the forest getting lost with his friend Bastian, he’s probably got a few spots he can work
in without being noticed by other fae.
But even if he can find a safe way to use dust on the animals, do I really want him trying it on me? Possibly getting caught and
punished for it aside, pixies have seriously messed themselves up doing this in the past. Even I’ve witnessed a mishap or two. An
older pixie named Berry once thought her nose looked too big for her body, so she tried to size it down. She made it so small she
couldn’t even breathe through it. It ended up no bigger than the length of an ant. The elders didn’t imprison her since she did it to
herself, but they did decide to make her live with it for a year before they would allow it to be fixed. Luckily for her, the effects wore
off after a month and they didn’t redo it just to punish her further…she had learned her lesson.
Berry was lucky, because plenty of others have suffered permanent effects. One male had monstrously oversized biceps, uneven on
both arms so it looked super ridiculous, and another attempted to permanently paint her eyebrows, resulting in a funky green stain
splotched all over her face.
Pixie dust wasn’t meant to be used on pixies. Its main purpose is to aid the growth of nature where natural methods like fertilizing
and replanting fail. And organisms like plants and trees are far less complicated than our bodily structures, so they’re easier to
manipulate. Which is why I’m so afraid of Jack thinking the only way to get me safely out of here is to sprinkle some dust on me.
That, and it’s possible I’ll be so disfigured no one will be able to look at me without cringing; if they find the courage to look at all.
Jack stops by in the morning long enough to tell me he’s gotten the dust to stretch the length of an earthworm and a mouse spider
without complications. I shiver in disgust at the thought of that spider gaining mass. I’m a nature girl and I love all of Mother Nature’s
creatures, but still, anything with fangs or pinchers creeps me out.“What else are you going to try?”
He shrugs. “Depends on what I find in my traps today.” I sigh and shake my head. “Don’t worry, Rosalie. I’ll find a way to make this
work.”
I huff. Sure…no problem. You just have to find a few animals to play with first. The idea doesn’t sit well with me, but I decide not to
mention it. As well as I’ve gotten to know Jack, I’m pretty sure he feels bad about doing it. And I know he wouldn’t move forward if he
thought it would truly hurt them. Still, the idea of what he’s doing goes against nature, and I can’t help but feel guilty for being the
reason.
In just two days, I might be free. Those words overtake my thoughts as I fail to keep count of the number of laps I make around the
hole. In just two days, I may permanently disfigure myself. I may not make it past the spriggans, through the woods, or down the river.
Or even find my way home. But it’s possible I may. The pixie dust may work wonders. I may make it past the spriggans, through the
woods, and down the river. And I may even make it home to my tree house. To Poppy.
My body goes numb and I stop dead in my tracks, because I realize, that whether I make it out of here or not, I won’t ever see Jack
again.
In just two days.
I’m not doing too well in my battle to release Jack from my emotions. I try to convince myself that it’s just a crush and that the feelings
will never be returned, but I’m failing miserably at it. My heart keeps fighting back with an endless list of what ifs. What if what you’re
feeling isn’t a crush, but love, and you just don’t understand the difference – it’s not like you have experience in this department,
right? What if there was a way to make this relationship last, whether stuck in this prison indefinitely, or out in the real world, where
we can sneak off and meet up with each other in secret? What if the pixie elders would allow you to have this relationship, because
of what you’ve gone through, and that they’ll see he’s worthy of keeping close to the heart?
And the cruelest one of all – What if Jack loves you back?
It’s with desperation that I analyze his features, words and bodily movements for anything that tells me the permanent separation
looming before us will devastate him as much as it does me. I’ve noticed his smiles have lessened these past several days. And he’
s only been coming by to give me rations and update his progress. Is he really busy the entire time he’s gone? Or is this his way of
distancing himself from me? And perhaps forcing me into it as well... Maybe seeing me less is making the inevitable easier for him.
Because whether my heart likes it or not, the reality of separation is as blinding as the midday sun…when I get to see it, of course.“I
managed to trap a chipmunk and a fox,” he says as he opens the satchel containing my dinner. “The good news is that I was able to
stretch both in size a bit.”“What’s the bad news?” I urge, fearful of what happened to them. And what exactly is considered bad? Bad
like its limbs were different lengths? Bad like its fur caught on fire? What? I’m nervous and he isn’t responding quickly enough,
taking his sweet time pulling things out for me to eat: bread, a mixture of nuts, a good chunk of banana.“I wouldn’t really say bad
news.” Then what would you say? Come on already! “Both of them stretched, but it was only temporary. Eventually the magic wore
off and they reduced back to size.”
My eyes squint, trying to determine if this should even be considered bad. “Is that it? That’s the only thing that happened to them? It
wore off?”“Yeah,” he states nonchalantly, as if this wasn’t the best news ever. He sits and pats the ground beside him. “Rosalie, sit.
You need to rest from here on out.”
I obediently sit and begin gnawing on the nuts like a squirrel. I’m sure it’s not attractive to watch, but I’m focusing hard on Jack’s
experiment. The fox is larger in size than either of us, but I don’t really know how much our systems differ. The same goes for the
chipmunk.“How long did the magic last?”“The fox, not very long. Maybe an hour. The chipmunk held out a few more hours. The
spider, however, was still big today.”“So is the magic fading faster ‘cause they’re bigger or ‘cause they’re more complex?”“No idea.
” I turn to glare at him, my eyes exuding something fierce. “What?” he exclaims. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. Your guess is as good as
mine.”
I release my evil eyes and return to my nuts. I sigh as I munch on the few in my mouth. “So basically” – crunch, crunch – “if we’re lucky
” – crunch, crunch – “any dust used on me is going to wear off anywhere between the spider and chipmunk. So a few hours to…”“A
few days probably. At least one and a half so far.”“Is that enough time to get me far enough away from the spriggans and faeries?”“
Should be.”“Well, all right then. Guess I’m getting dusted.” I drop the bag of nuts and decide to comfort myself with melt-on-my-
tongue bread.“You’re taking this pretty well, Rosalie.” I hear the contradiction in his voice.
I laugh, a little wickedly too, and shake my head. “No, Jack. I’m not. It completely terrifies me. I’m just doing my best not to focus on it
anymore. It is what it is and it’s what I need to do to get out of here. So I’ll do it. But I should warn you, I’ll probably pee myself when
you do it.”
He laughs and extends his arm over my shoulders, rubbing the farthest one, trying to comfort me. And I hate myself for enjoying it.
Because I have to let him go. I should be strong and shrug him off me, but I figure reality’s going to slap me hard enough in the face
tomorrow anyway. This time tomorrow I’ll be on my own and I’ll never be able to feel his touch again. So what’s the point of denying
myself the pleasure of it today?“What time is it?” I ask, popping another bite of bread into my mouth.“I’d say around six in the
evening. And I hate to leave you, but you need to rest as well as you can, and I need to get everything together that you’ll need. I didn’
t dare pack a bag before now. I was afraid someone would find it and start asking questions. Lately Starla’s been particularly
interested in my increased appetite.”
I nod my head slowly, eyes straight ahead. We’re getting pretty close to it now, and the numbness I’ve been feeling off and on is
really spreading throughout my body. Like my insides are fighting the idea of me escaping and leaving Jack behind. Tomorrow I’ll
have to dig deep to find the courage to fight it off. Because I don’t want to leave Jack. I don’t know how to move forward in a world
without him. These past couple of weeks he’s been everything to me.“Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow?” I ask, wishing him
to say no.
It takes him several seconds to reply, “Yeah, Rosalie. You’ve got to get out of here before something worse happens. If something
happened to you…”
When he doesn’t continue, my head automatically turns his way. I guess my movement draws his, because the next thing I know, I’m
looking up and he’s looking down, and our eyes lock tight. When he finally moves towards me, my heart panics and my beats triple,
and my breath catches in my chest. His lips are ever so close and moving towards me...but they stop short, and I feel a warmth
against my forehead that I desperately want on my lips. My eyes close, regardless, as I try to soak in this moment with as much
clarity as I possibly can. The heat of his touch, the slight movement of his lips as they tenderly brush my skin, the way his hand now
splays against the back of my neck, and the way his body arcs toward mine.
My insides gasp in pain when he pulls away, shouting NO! in so many creative ways. Parts of my body are wrenching in pain that I
didn’t even know existed, piercing me deep into my core. Our eyes open; mine before his – I didn’t even know he had done the
same. There’s pain in his eyes, and I have the feeling mine are conveying the same message. For one split second, there’s hope
that he’s feeling what I am, and that he’ll give in and bring his lips down to mine. But the next, he’s leaning farther away and getting to
his feet, preparing to leave. Quietly, he says, “I’ll see you around two, Rosalie. Sleep well.”
It pains me to watch him fly away in this moment and not spend our last night together, holding me close. And I’m sure he meant for
that to be a heartfelt farewell kiss, but after the fact, it feels more like the kiss of death.
I did it. I actually fell asleep. It seems like it took forever, but here I am, stirring out of sleep, Jack gently shaking my arm, saying my
name softly until my eyes open. His lips softly curve upward as I rotate my head to look up at him. Instead of trying to pull me from my
slumber, he joins me on the horrible ground. He shifts, squiggling around for a bit, trying to get comfortable. We lay silently for a few
minutes, exchanging smiles.
Hating for my curiosity to break the moment, I whisper, “What time is it?”“About one-thirty. I watched the spriggans’ campsite for a
bit before coming in. They’re all knocked out for the night. Course it probably helped that I put a hint of lavender in their communal
watering hole yesterday,” he adds with a wickedly cute smile.“Then I guess they’re the only ones that got decent sleep tonight. Did
you even go to bed?”“No. I just couldn’t keep my mind from going over every little detail.” He releases a long, heavy sigh, but his
eyes continue to bore hard into mine. “I hate to lose you, Rosalie, but I have to get you out of here.”
I don’t even fight the tears that drip from my eyes, or the steady stream that follows. Wet and blurry as they are, I can tell his eyes are
moist too. If tears are welling up behind his, he’s managing to restrict their flow. My eyes shut tight, and I squeeze the excess
moisture out, and take a long, deep breath to calm the desolation within.“Come on,” he mournfully says, already standing before I
even get around to opening my eyes. He extends his hand and I offer mine, letting him pull me to my feet. My eyes close when his
thumbs begin sweeping the tears from my face. “Don’t cry, Rosalie. This is hard enough for me.”
I huff. Somehow I doubt that, but it comforts me knowing I may not be alone with these twisted, confusing, heart-wrenching feelings
inside.
He kneels and unzips a large bag. His arm disappears inside and eventually pulls out a dress. If it’s cute, I don’t know, because I
think I’ve finally reached my breaking point. I think I’m trying to shut down. All emotion seems to be fleeing; my body stands there
lifeless, unable to mentally process the soft cotton he’s placing within my grasp. Somehow I manage to clamp my fingers around it,
though how my brain actually manages to relay that message to my hand is beyond me. I hear a soft thump on the floor, but my eyes
don’t bother to look.“That dress will fit you in a minute. When the magic wears off, there are smaller clothes in the bag. I did the best I
could with Starla’s old wardrobe. I chose tops and skirts that you have to tie, so hopefully they’ll fit you okay.” I nod, but only a
centimeter or two in each direction. I feel sleepy, like I’m caught in a daze I don’t want to break free from. Jack pulls out a small pull-
string bag made of black velvet and a blue silk cord. I know what’s inside. Something I haven’t seen since before I was stolen: pixie
dust. He unties the knot and loosens the cord just enough for his hand to disappear into the black hole. His hand emerges with a
pinch of silvery dust between his fingertips. He rubs his fingers together and the flecks float freely in the air, twinkling as they dance
and tumble their way back into their protective velvet.
My hand suddenly jerks and grasps his wrist, setting free a few more flecks of the diamond dust. His eyes widen, probably afraid I’m
backing out of his carefully thought out plan. There’s fear in my eyes and I’m not afraid to express it. “That wasn’t made with the
mushroom powder we make here, is it?” My heart pounds at the fear of having that sprinkled over me, knowing full well it’ll produce
repercussions.
He shakes his head. “No. This is from my mother’s stash. Healers are always allotted top grade dust, so this is the best of the best.”
I nod and release my grip, my head tipping forward. “Moment of truth. You ready?”“No,” I blabber, my voice cracking.“Hey.” He says
it with such certainty my head shifts up, but my eyes immediately run away. “Where’s that pixie I first met? That defiant one? The one
that refused to be demoted to a number? The one that kept screaming and demanding we call her Rosalie? The one I…” he trails
off. I look back and meet his gaze, his mossy green eyes saddened. His eyes are twitching back and forth, like he’s reading
something in his mind, deciding how to best proceed.“The one you what?” I whisper, my tiptoes readying to lift, longing for him to
bend down and bring his lips to mine. My heart begs, the one he fell in love with?
His jaw unhinges and his mouth hangs open a bit. After several awkward seconds, his body snaps and his mouth recloses.
“Regardless, that’s the pixie that has to leave here tonight. That’s the pixie that’s going to survive and find her way home.”
Tears well behind my eyes again, pained that he doesn’t give me what I long for, what I need. But I nod my head in agreement. He’s
right. I can do this. I will do this. I will not stay here and spend the remainder of my days unlawfully imprisoned. I’m going to get out of
here and go home. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to do that. Including being dusted with magic.“Hit me,” I say, expressing more
confidence now.“First things first.” Handing me the velvet pouch, he pulls a key from one of the pockets in his pants, then steps
around to my backside. I hear a click, then my back involuntary jerks back and forth, the sound of metal scraping against metal with
each yank. A loud metallic screech pierces the air, making me wish I could cover my ears with my hands. A massive weight lifts
from my wings and I moan with pleasure, suddenly feeling lighter than air.“Oh, thank you! You have no idea how good that feels!”“I
can imagine.” He tosses the metal clamp to the floor and it lands with a bang. “Now stand still and be quiet,” he demands, stepping
before me again, recollecting the bag of his mother’s pixie dust. “This is going to require a lot of focus on my part.”
I nod, knowing full well the concentration it takes to will something to my desire. I’ve had several years experience using the dust to
grow some of the plant life throughout the forest surrounding my Hollow. I tilt my head down, deciding it best to remove my eyes
completely from his line of sight. I sense his arm lifting above my head and await impact. Impact, I think, internally laughing at the
thought. I actually have no idea what this will feel like, if anything at all. So far I feel nothing, and can tell visually that I haven’t grown in
size. Has he even started yet? I dare not look, more afraid of interrupting him than anything.
I catch a sparkle at the tip of my nose, the light reflecting the quickest flash of red on a hexagonal-shaped fleck. More and more
specks follow and fill my vision, reflecting the beautiful colors of the rainbow as they twist and tumble downward. I suddenly feel a
twinge in my tummy and instinctively cover it with my hands. The feeling’s hard to describe really. It almost feels like little tendrils are
rapidly reaching out from a tiny ball of mass, right in the center of my tummy. They lick farther and farther, lengthening and extending
their reach down my legs to the balls of my feet and toes, and up my arms and all the way down to my fingertips. Last is my head,
and it fills with so much pressure I’m forced to squeeze my eyes and pinch my nose in a desperate attempt to fight against it. An
involuntary gasp of air fills my lungs, and it holds firm as I feel my muscles stretch and lengthen. But what’s really weird are the
bones, and they way they almost feel like they’re thinning in circumference in order to lengthen, manipulating and reshaping the
bone that’s already present in my body.
I won’t lie. There’s a little pain involved, like a surplus of pins and needles attacking my body. I grunt as I feel myself lengthen and
grow slightly in height. After a minute, it all seems to fade, but the pinpricks linger a bit. My facial muscles slowly release, and my
eyelids fearfully creep upwards in small sections, widening my view layer by layer.
I gasp, and shoot my eyes wide open. I’m almost head level with the most gorgeous guy ever! Before, I was three inches shorter,
now I’m only down by one. It’s almost like when we sit (or I sit up and he leans) and we’re close enough to converse comfortably face
to face. But never before have I been anywhere close enough to do that standing up. Not that I’m complaining of the great view I had
of his chest, but a view of his neck is so much better, because all I have to do is barely tilt upward to get an absolutely perfect look at
those luscious lips. And right now they’re close enough to brush against mine, if only he would just tilt a little more south.
He licks his lips and slightly chuckles, setting off the butterflies in my abdomen again. But they have an absolute fit when his body
twists and exposes his backside to me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, completely flustered. We were about to have a moment! “What are
you doing?”“Uh…the dress, Rosalie.” He shifts a little as he awkwardly tries to point toward the cloth in my hand. “You need to put
the dress on.”
My forehead creases with confusion, but when I look down, it all makes sense. “Oh-my-Mother-Nature!” I scream. I bend forward at
the waist, my arms immediately crossing over my chest. My heart thumps so hard I feel it pulsating against the limb covering it. Who
knew growing two inches would cause my chest to expand that much! My thinning bikini top has stretched and is covering the
important parts, but it left very little to the imagination. I groan, wondering exactly how much Jack got to see before I even got around
to opening my eyes. Sure, he was transfixed on my eyes then, but what about before? Mother Nature, I hope he was respectful. I’m
sure he was, but I know he saw something, because how else would he know to turn and tell me to change? Here comes another
groan…
The knot is hard to untie now that the material around me is stretched tight. I finally quit fighting it from behind and twist the knot to
my front. It’s still hard to get, but I’m making headway.
After another grunt from me, Jack sarcastically asks, “Need some help?”“Hush up and stay put.”
He chuckles and the tails of my bikini top finally untangle. I drop the worn-out top and quickly throw the dress over my head. The thin
cotton is stretchy and fits me well, with thin sleeveless straps and a pleated skirt that falls loosely mid-thigh. The light tan color is
nothing to be desired, but it blends really well against my skin.“Uh…Jack?” I suddenly realize something very important.“Yeah?”“Turn
around.” He obeys, his eyebrows lifting with interest as he examines me head to toe. I quickly thrust my forearms in the space
between us and bounce them up and down. “Look. I’m still red. I can’t be red!” My poor enlarged heart can’t take any more panic
attacks today, not after everything else my body has gone through.“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m going to take care of that and your
wings with dust too. Just one problem at a time.”“Okay.” My head bobs nervously, then my hands begin to twitch too. Before my
whole body can sporadically break out in embarrassing dance moves, I cross my arms tight, shut my eyes and take a few deep
breaths. “Okay. Hit me.”
He wordlessly obliges. I barely hear his movements. A minute later, I feel a tingle spread all over the top of my skin. A minute after
that, I feel a twinge at the base of my wings. It almost feels like the veins and crossveins in my wings are actually knitting back
together, and the cartilage is molding and realigning at each break. A warmth radiates from the base of my spine and travels out to
the tips of my four wings, and I suddenly feel this wondrous glow inside me build and spread to every single cell inside my body. I
sigh with content, feeling healthier than I have in a long time. My insides sing, practically tingling with delight. I wiggle my fingers, and
I swear I can almost feel the magic exuding from my fingertips, buzzing with life, static flaring as they brush together.
The symptoms fade, including the inner warmth, but I still feel pretty good as I expose my eyes to the sight before me. My skin is now
a creamy peach like Jack’s, and I can see the tips of my wings out the corner of my eyes – and their yellow luminescence!“Oh, Jack!
You healed them? How?”“No, Rosalie,” he says quickly, shaking his head and cutting the air with his hands multiple times. “I’m not a
healer. Wings are incredibly delicate, and I wasn’t able to catch anything to practice on, so I’m not going to try. It’s just an illusion, so
don’t try to actually use them. I just don’t want anyone we may run across to see damaged wings and wonder.”“Oh.” To say I’m
disappointed is an understatement, but better to see them in all their glory than the mangled up mess they really are, right? I
suppose they’ll still hurt if I touch them, and I dare not try.“Well… Now you look the part.” His eyes linger on me longer than
necessary. He almost seems sad to see me this way. Perhaps he feels it’s a tease…because it sure feels that way to me. Here we
are, compatible heights, matching skin tones…two fae that look a match. What I want is right before me, and the attraction I have for
Jack is no longer considered unlawful. But this nine-inch, creamy-skinned faerie before him isn’t me. Not really. And I think he sees
that as a problem as much as I do. What good is being together if I have to change myself to the point I’m unrecognizable?“Come
on. I want you past the spriggans campsite before you change back or something goes wrong with the illusion.”
He passes me the bag – it’s heavier than it looks – and I stuff my worn out clothes and the bag of pixie dust inside. I slip on the
shoes – I guess they must have been the thump I heard earlier when I was too out of it to discover the source of the noise. They’re
soft and silky on my bare feet, and I feel a little guilty that I’m not clean enough for shoes this pretty. The dark brown material extends
a little farther than my toes, but the silk ribbon straps that wrap around my ankles keeps them on well enough. I never had shoes this
nice back home. I had two pairs for working in, but I hardly ever wore them, preferring to feel the earth between my bare toes.“You’re
in charge of that bag from now on, so hold on tight.” He grabs the metal clamp and the lantern’s hand ring with his left hand, and
extends his right arm out. His fingers summon me. I loop the bag over my right shoulder and step into his embrace. My left arm
wraps under his arm and up his back, my hand cupping over the curvature of his shoulder blade. His arm wraps tightly around my
waist. His wings flutter, and I suddenly wonder if he’ll be able to carry me out of here by himself since I probably weigh as much as
he does now.“Maybe we should have made me a faerie after you took me topside.”
He huffs, and sarcastically says, “Now you say that? Where was that great idea fifteen minutes ago?”“Guess maybe someone
should have consulted me in terms of the escape plan after all, huh?”
I can feel his glare but I refuse to look. He squeezes my waist so hard I yelp. My lips press tightly together, trying to contain the
laughter within as he bends and pushes up, having to practically jump off the ground. We ascend – a little slowly, but up is up. So
long crap hole!
We pass over the edge, and my feet stumble to find solid ground that doesn’t poke a hole through my shoes. Jack releases me
slowly, his hand sliding along my lower back as he walks down the passage.“Turns out you make a curvy faerie too.”
Astonished, I playfully smack him on the back of the shoulder before he can duck completely out of reach. I follow his mild laughter
down the passage, the lantern in his hand illuminating a distorted depiction of our shadows across the rocky walls. It only takes a
minute of walking to get us to the opening of the cave, to the peaks of hanging rock resembling the canines in a wolf’s maw, which
teases me, looking ready to chomp shut and devour me the moment I dare to pass through, but I’m excited for my first view of nature
in several weeks nonetheless.
Ugh…I’ve forgotten how ugly this made up world is. Even with nothing but a weak glow from the moon, I can see the barren ground
and a few dead looking trees. Those poor trees. In reality, they’re probably pretty beautiful, but it’s lost to the world thanks to this
horrible illusion. Pixies spend a great deal of time and effort making plants and trees bountiful and picturesque, and the flippin’
faeries completely removed it from this area with one stupid, unlawful illusion. Jerks.
We stop now that we’re outside, and Jack takes off and disappears over the top of the cave. A moment later I hear a wooden clunk,
and a rush of water flows over the top, covering the entrance with a thick wall of shimmering liquid. It splashes into a moist creek that
flows down and away. The cool drops splattering randomly into the air feel wonderful against my bare legs.
Jack returns and takes my hand, hurrying me away, still carrying the lantern and wing clamp with his other hand. “Rosalie, do you
remember the map and where you’re going?”“Sort of,” I admit.“The map is in your bag. Pull it out if you need to, but keep it dry and
safe otherwise. I’ve packed some food and a water canteen, but it’s only if you really need it. You need to always be on the lookout
for food and water, and eat as you go. If you find something in surplus, stuff what you can into your bag. But I’m serious Rosalie, don’
t eat what’s in your bag until you’re in dire need. It’s meant to feed you if you’re on the run, temporarily trapped up in a tree, or
whatever.”“Okay.” My fingers wrap tighter around his at the thought of being chased up a tree. I’d have to actually climb it. Can I do it
before whatever’s chasing me catches up?“You’re wearing your only faerie clothes. There are two sets of smaller clothes, a blanket,
and rope to tie a raft. Think you can build a raft?”
I huff. “I built myself a tree house. I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.”
I can’t see it because he’s leading the way, but I sense the smile on his face when he responds, “Okay. Do you know how to
navigate if you get lost?”“I don’t understand. I’m basically lost from the start. I run until I find the trail, travel until it bends, and keep
going straight until I hit the river. Right?”“Right, but if you get turned around, do you know how to use the North Star?”“All I know is
that it’s really bright.” I’ve spent many nights outside my tree house, lying atop the canopy, admiring its brightness.
Jack stops, and I pull up beside him. He releases my hand and his eyes search the sky. Pointing upward to the right, he tells me,
“That’s the North Star.” I shake my head in agreement. He pushes on my shoulder and twists me directly before it. “Any time you’re
facing directly at this star, you’re facing true north.”“Okay.”
He pulls me back into motion, quickening our speed. “You’re mostly going to be traveling east. So if we were in the forest right now,
and you were directly facing the North Star, which way would you go?”
I think for a moment… “I don’t know. We were never really taught this in my Hollow ‘cause we knew our land like the back of our
hands. We didn’t get lost.”“Alright…”
Jack comes to an abrupt halt, and I barely stop short to avoid colliding with him. I’m completely silent because I know why we’ve
stopped. His hand plays with the air before him, and the glow from the lantern eventually catches a ripple that’s supposed to be
invisible. We’re already at the barrier of the prison. And just on the other side is the spriggans’ camp.
He blows the lantern out. Turning to face me, my eyes adjust quickly to the shades of gray building up around me, thanks to the glow
of the moon. He squeezes my hand softly. “We don’t have time for me to check the campsite, because there’s only one entry point
and this isn’t it. It’d take me at least ten minutes to check the site, enter and fly my way back to this spot. So we’re going through
together.”
I nod, anxiety building up within, gnawing at the lining in my stomach.“Remember, you’re a faerie. So don’t freak out or act all guilty if
someone catches us. If they do, you’re my girl and I snuck you in, because you wanted to see the prison.”
You’re my girl…those words, and the protective way he says them, will forever be replayed in my mind. My chest pinches at the
realization that I’m probably feeling his fingers cross with mine for the last time. Ever.
He pulls me through the invisible barrier, the magic tickling the fine hairs on my skin. I hold my breath until we step into the real world,
and feel the breeze slide along my skin. I immediately hear the forest’s nocturnal occupants: owls hooting, crickets chirping, frogs
croaking, and the slight buzz as a lightning bug crosses our path, illuminating the path it’s taking every few seconds.
I can’t smell nature, but already I notice the air is cooler as it passes through my nostrils, more breathable than the stuffy, recycled air
within the glamour. The spiggans’ huts are laid out before us. It seems Jack was right. I’m now standing in the exact same spot I was
the first time I escaped this place. Hopefully this time, there’s no spriggan sneaking up behind me ready to knock me out. My head
immediately snaps to the back…just in case. Any spriggan inside the prison wouldn’t have to exit where we did to make a sudden
appearance up our backsides.
Relief washes over me as Jack pulls me into motion, tiptoeing along the backside of the huts, heading right. The campsite is clear
of life. Seems even the insects don’t want to disturb the monstrous fae. With Jack leading me, I pay more attention to my feet, trying
to avoid dried out leaves and twigs long dead on the forest floor; or anything else that may wake the guards.
Well, at least I can say I didn’t cause the commotion. Jack halts so fast I can’t help but bump into him this time. A loud screech
pierces the air, causing my ears to ring long after it stops. I quickly peek over Jack’s shoulder as he takes a defensive stance
between me and the furry masked creature. The raccoon seems as startled as we are, but all fae know raccoons are willing to eat
our kind if hungry enough. Jack drops the lantern and the metal wing clamp, and they disappear underneath a thick layer of luscious
ferns. He twists his body and squeezes my waist, his arms latching on to one another behind my back. With a quick jump, we’re
airborne and leaving the furry creature behind, who falls back on two legs in an attempt to swipe us back down. It misses, and I
breathe a sigh of relief.
My arm wraps around Jack for more support, and I glance over his shoulder and towards the spriggans’ camp. I gasp and catch my
breath. Two spriggans now hurry about the site, searching our area with their eyes, pointing long daggers out before them. Luckily,
they’re looking to the ground for the source of the noise.“Spriggans,” I whisper. With silent understanding, Jack weaves in and
around as many trees as he can find to hide us from their sight. After a few minutes, I can tell he’s beginning to struggle with my
weight, dipping down unexpectedly, then fluttering his wings madly to recover against the loss of height. But it’s too exhausting for
him, and eventually we’re barely flying over the ground. We land roughly and stumble a few steps, but our feet remain strong beneath
us.
He releases me and bends over, his hands finding his knees for added support. I stroke his back and murmur, “Just breathe.” I fear
any second he’s going to tell me that he’s gotten me as far as he can, and that’s it time for me to take off on my own.“Pull the map
out, will you?”
Not the best words to hear at the moment, but at least he’s not saying goodbye. Not yet… I pull the parchment out and unfold it. He’s
walking aimlessly, his head looking to the sky. I follow him, looking for more access to the moonlight, so we can better make out the
markings. I find it right where he’s standing. Together we hold out the map.“Look, you see this drawing right here?” I nod, noting the
cross with N, E, S and W each scratched at one of the four tips. “There are four main points to navigation. This is your navigation
key. North is the top of this map, east the right, south the bottom, and west the left. Look up. See the North Star again?”“Yes.”“What
did I tell you about the North Star?”“That when I stand right in front of it,” I say, moving my body to do so, “that I’m now facing north.”
“Right. So if this is north,” he explains, pointing straight out in front of us, “and we want to go here,” he adds, pointing to the first trail
on the map I’m supposed to seek, “which direction do we walk in order to get there?”“East…so we go right.”“Right!” He takes the
map and folds it back up, stuffing it back into the bag slung over my shoulder. “I want you checking this map all the time, until you feel
comfortable that you’re going in the right direction, alright?”“Alright.”
He snatches my hand and we turn to go right. I keep pace with him so not to be dragged behind. I want to see the raccoon coming
next time, thank you very much. My heart calms, even though we walk at a quickened pace. Unfortunately, the silence eats away at
my soul, squeezing what little time I know we have together more and more, until it feels like there’s nothing left. My body wants to
cry but I fight it, knowing I have to be strong. I can’t give him much, but I’d like to leave Jack with some comfort in believing I’m strong
enough to survive this ordeal, and that I can make my way safely back home. It’s the one thing I can do for him, to repay him for all he
’s done to get me to this point. I will not fail him. I will go on, without him, and I will be strong about it. At least until I’m all alone, then
there’s no telling what my emotions will do to me.
We hurry along in silence for a long time, trying to travel as quietly as possible to avoid another encounter with a nocturnal predator. I
’m unsure of how much time passes, but the sky begins to lighten to a medium blue. I’ve seen this color in the pit before, on a night I
couldn’t sleep. We have maybe two more hours until the sun cuts above the horizon.