Chapter 7 #2
With a final cut of the blade, the pixie is at least free of the tree.
I hold her as gently as I can in my left hand.
I cringe. I can scarcely see her underneath all that tape.
How the hell am I going to get all the duct tape off her?
I can see that she must have been struggling, so much so it’s almost embedded into her skin.
“Do you need me to drop you off at your burrow?” I ask gently.
“I have nowhere to go,” she answers in a soft, lilting tone. Her face shines with more tears, and her eyes… She looks broken.
My heart hurts for her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.
” I raise my voice and address the boys.
Two more have slinked off since I’ve had my back to them, including blade runner, who I’m amused to see is hopping away.
I’m down to three. “You can’t trust a guy who thinks it’s okay to hurt an innocent creature.
A tiny pixie. You know what that makes him—a psychopath.
It makes you no better than him, his lackeys, and you’re worse than he is ’cause you can’t think for yourselves. ”
“We don’t care,” the blond kid says, puffing his chest. His blue eyes are alight with cruelty.
“We don’t care. Oh you poor, silly puppets.” I pout and shake my head at the two muppets. “Does it hurt with his hand so far up your arses?” I then smile back at the blond kid. Showing him my crazy.
Oh, he doesn’t like that.
I almost want to rub my hands together with glee. He’s the type of guy that I love to teach a lesson. Though you never know, my words might influence his so-called friends, and they might do the world a favour and take him out themselves.
“You will care. Especially when your muppet mates watch you get your head kicked in by a girl. Oops, how embarrassing.” I fake giggle. His eyes glaze over with his rage. Look at that. I don’t even have to go to him.
With a weird scream, like a bull, he drops his head and charges towards me, his arms flailing about madly.
I snort. This lad is used to using his weight to gain the upper hand. He’s not even looking where he’s going. I leave it to the last possible millisecond, then I step to the side and stick my foot out. As he runs past me, he trips and smashes his head into the tree. He’s out like a light.
Huh, that’s a little bit anticlimactic.
I poke him with my toe.
He’s gonna have a right lump on his head. I peer at the knives still embedded in the tree. “Do you want me to stab him a few times?” I ask the pixie.
In response, she lets out a small shocked laugh. “No, thank you.”
I give her a tiny smile. Her laugh gives me hope that she’s going to be all right.
The rest of his motley crew have gone. They’ve left him. I shrug. He’s not my problem.
If I could get away with it, I’d hunt those other boys down and hurt them. But they aren’t worth the hassle of getting in trouble, and the pixie is my priority. “I have a friend that might be able to get this stuff off you. Is that okay?”
“Yes, thank you, Tru.” She says my name shyly, as if she’s worried she’s going to say it wrong. “My name is Story.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m going to run. Is that okay?” She nods again. “Okay. Let’s get you sorted.” I carefully hold the pixie in my hand and break into a jog.
I dash out of the park, down the street, and head into the city. I need something that will get between the tape and Story’s delicate skin. I’m hoping Tilly will know what to do.
I fling the door to the café open, and the bell above clangs an off-tune protest. Tilly looks up from behind the counter, and as soon as she sees my face, she hurries towards me.
“Tru?”
“Tilly, please can you help my friend?” I ask, holding out my palm. Tilly frowns at me with confusion and then glances down at my cupped hand. As soon as she spots the poor pixie huddled in my palm, Tilly cries out with despair.
In response, Story drops her head and huddles further into herself. “It’s okay. Tilly is a friend. Please don’t be frightened,” I whisper.
“Oh my Mother Nature… by the trees,” Tilly splutters.
Her horrified eyes meet mine. She rapidly blinks tears away, and a few blossom petals from her green hair float to the floor.
“Of course, of course. We need to help this young lady immediately. Both of you come with me.” Tilly pulls her apron off and leaves it on the counter.
“Alex, I’m popping out. I’ll be as quick as I can,” she shouts as she hustles us out the door.
“I have a friend, a witch. She’s also a trained nurse. Please follow me.”
A short walk away from the café is Birley Street. Smack bang in the middle of the street, sandwiched between an art gallery on the left and hairdressers on the right, in a modest-sized building is a witches’ shop. Tinctures ‘n Tonics - Specialists in Portable Potions, the sign above says proudly.
My sensitive nose tingles. The shop smells heavily of herbs and magic, which makes me shiver. Tilly flings the door open, and we follow her inside.
I glance around the shop with interest. The wooden shelves are filled to the brim with magical artefacts, and a tingling hum of energy fills the air.
The store is brightly lit—natural light filters through the enormous windows at the front, and fascinatingly, dozens of magical globes of light bob about in different corners of the room.
I guess as the light in the shop changes throughout the day, the floating orbs will move to where they’re needed.
One is already bopping around above Tilly’s head. Freaky.
“Jodie, Jodie,” Tilly shrieks.
“Tilly? What on earth is wrong?” A pretty dark-haired witch looks up from a seat in the corner where she’s reading an ancient tome.
“Oh, Jodie, I’m so glad you’re here. We need your help,” Tilly wails, rushing towards her friend.
As if a switch has been flipped, the witch goes into professional mode. She puts the huge book down and springs up from her chair and rushes around the counter. With a professional gaze, she assesses Tilly, and then her eyes fly to me.
“It’s not me,” I say. Once again, I hold out my palm.
Jodie gently smiles at Story. “Hello, my name is Jodie. You’ve come to the right place. I have just what you need to make you more comfortable. May I touch you?”
Story blinks up at the witch. Her enormous blue eyes then look at me for reassurance, and I give her a nod of encouragement.
“Yes, that’s okay, I guess. My name is Story.”
Jodie gently gathers her from my hand.
All of a sudden I don’t want to let the pixie go. I watch with narrowed eyes as Jodie holds her in both hands. I nibble on my lip. I have to trust that Tilly knows what she’s doing. “I can pay, so please do whatever you have to.”
“Did you punish whoever did this?”
I guess… I nod.
“Good, that’s payment enough. Come on, Story. Let’s get you more comfortable.”
Tilly and I follow the witch into her back room.
The room is large but cosy, decorated in appealing warm tones.
It has a proper wood-burning stove and a comfy seating area at one end and a beautiful, big, industrial-sized witches’ kitchen at the other, with a table that can seat twelve in the middle.
Placing Story on the table, Jodie tells her everything that she’s going to do and gets permission for every step.
She uses potions to carefully remove the tape and to make sure that any scratches or sores are healed.
Underneath all that tape is the most beautiful blue skin.
Jodie even has clothing to replace the pixie’s damaged ones.
“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what we would have done without you,” I gush. I’ve never been more grateful. The witch’s kindness has been humbling.
“Yes, thank you. You’ve all been very kind. I would have surely perished without all your help,” Story adds.
“You’re welcome,” Jodie says with a gentle smile. “I am glad I could help. Story, if you ever need to talk about what happened, my door is always open.”
“Thank you.”
“Now Tru, are you going to take Story home?” Tilly asks. The pixie smiles, but her bottom lip trembles. “You do have somewhere to go, right?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for all your help,” Story answers quietly.
Shit, she has nowhere to go.
My heart jumps, and my own lip wobbles. Without thinking, I hear myself saying, “She can stay with me.”
Nice one, Tru. She can stay in the garage ’cause that’s the height of luxury. I want to smack myself on the forehead for being such a soft touch. But the look on Story’s face, the way her sapphire eyes brighten, makes me realise I’ve done the right thing.