Blue

The fleeting look that crossed her face startled me. It was as if the old Atala was back and the entire evil charade before this was just a mask she had donned. But witches can’t be kind. 

She has got your wand, your lifeline. She’s evil. Believe it, Atala’s gone, she’s a witch now. I chanted in my head, hoping it would breathe some sense back into my mind. 

So is Pieris, another voice whispered.

Oh shut up. Have I mentioned how much I wanted to strangle that little voice sometimes? It was only spared for so long because I hadn’t found a spell to get rid of it. But I swear, one fine day I will.

“That is an interesting sketch.”

I peered up from the pile of parchments Jayden Forst called ‘sketchbook’ to meet his red brows furrowed over my shoulders. 

“You think so?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the unicorn in blue ink that appeared more like a horned bald hippo with flaring nostrils. 

I knew I wasn’t made an Artist but Jayden Forst’s pen was so much harder to wield. The pictures didn’t manifest themselves the way it did with Herman’s no matter how hard I focused on the details. 

“Well, yeah. At least it’s a creative piece,” Jayden Forst added, eyes blinking rapidly. Clearly, Readers weren’t born to lie.

Herman laughed a little too hard across from us. The narrow space afforded by the carriage echoed his voice. I have no idea why I would still attempt to kick him after all the kick-miss-and-fall-forward routine we had been through. 

August, our new carriage-unicorn neighed and we were thrown from our seats for the I’ve-lost-count-of-how-many times. Either there were really too many bumps along the road or August was just trying to remind us to sit still. 

Unlike the pumpkin we had carved for Ella, Lily’s personal carriage was made for speed and practicality. No elaborated interior of gilded gold and velvety drapery, only sturdy thousand years old wood for its body and feather cushions for comfort. 

Our knees were huddled right next to one another’s. Herman seemed overjoyed that the limited space had limited my kicks for the time being. Jayden Forst on the other hand, was all flush and blush as if the heat from our touching skin was roasting him alive.

“Laugh at me again after you try painting with this pen.” I nearly threw the pen at Herman but decided it would be rude of me and handed it back to Jayden Forst. “How can you ever conjure any decent picture with something like this?”

Jayden Forst twirled the pen between two fingers, his pale green eyes casted up in thought. “Practice. Once you’re used to a ball pen, you wouldn’t rely so much on eraser anymore.”

I saw no ball on the pen, nor why he would bring up a person who (I think) erases. But one does not simply argue with a Reader, you would never win, with or without facts that neither of us understood. So I nodded and added nothing from the flood of words swirling in my mind.

Herman on the other hand, wasn’t one to be satisfied with silence. “You can give that princess centuries worth of time and the most she could give you is a page soaked through in ink.”

I flung the nearest maroon cushion at him, Jayden Forst’s sketchbook spared as he caught it in time. “Don’t compare me with those ditzy creatures in pink,” I warned, mentally apologizing to our White-currently-pink Fairy.

“Then don’t give me a reason to,” Herman sneered jokingly.

I bit down on my retort. True, I was acting the part, a brat who had lost her toy and couldn’t do anything but whines.

It’s just a wand. Like wand-wand. Nothing to be anxious about. It would be back as soon as Atala’s done with whatever evil (I hope not) plan and all would be well. My wand back in my now empty locket and… Seriously, pull yourself together Blue! There’s a Reader to take care of here.

The Reader, ever a surprise, added with the sincerest of face, “But you do look like a princess.”

Ten seconds later and we were still staring at the Reader. 

If one could be knighted by his degree of cluelessness, I am sure Jayden Forst would make it to the arch knight the second day of his post. How he had survived the strange realm of Pandora was a mystery. The boy could easily be duped by strangers selling suspicious apples.

“For the one hundredth times—” 

The carriage pulled to an abrupt stop, throwing me forward with a jerk so sudden, I crashed straight into Jayden Forst. Tresses of silver-blue splashed over my face and tangled themselves with our—begrudgingly—already tangled limbs. 

Jayden Forst’s wands (ball…pens?) rolled under our seats as his sketchbook flew into the air and fell open on the seat I was thrown off from. I barely caught a glimpse of a girl’s silhouette sketched onto a page when Herman announced, “We’re here!”

The carriage wobbled again, forcing us to snap our heads around. Herman easily maneuvered his way to the doors and leapt off, grinning as he left us to our own demise of trying and failing to peel one another off each other.

“Darn his flower petals…what is wrong with August today?” I groaned, blowing a stray strand of hair stuck to my lips. 

“The unicorn’s a smart one, that’s why,” came Herman’s immediate answer. 

I snorted and pulled a strangely feverish Jayden Forst up with me. Once outside though, I have to admit, no one can blame the unicorn for what it did. He had done an amazing job in fact. We had reached Pixie Hollow so much faster than planned, I hadn’t realized it until he threatened to throw us off.

Grass the shades of lemon green came to an abrupt stop, taken over by lavender purple under two dried tree trunks. Thick layer of moss covered their intertwined arms to form a low archway. Similar tiny flowers of bright yellow grew on the top of the trunks to form a miniature canopy that stretched across the path lined with shorter trees.

Tiny, indiscernible runes in silver carved into their trunks swirled from their roots to the tip of their branches. The scent of pixie dust pregnant in the air, caused the slightest bounce of sunlight to project powder of glimmering gold. 

My nose twitched involuntarily. No wonder August’s agitated.

True, pixies can be adorable and helpful at times—that is when we say about once in a million times after they trade your sugar for salt and pepper for sand on a daily basis. When it comes down to it, they are just a bunch of toddlers who don’t age, physically and mentally. Toddlers who happened to be especially curious about all things that glittered, I might add.

It’s never the start of a happily ever after when it comes to a group of rough little ones coming in contact with the unicorns: folks with glitters concentrated in their horns that they’re extremely protective of and grow aggressive if touched by others. The combination of unicorns and pixies are only a rank below Captain Hook and pixies in the grand list of nemesis.

August’s hooves were still pounding restlessly on the innocent blades of glass below when I reached for him. Leaning my forehead to his, I cooed his name and stroked his mane off pixie dust. If only I still have my wand with me, all the dust could be warded off the poor creature with just a flick of wrist.

“We’ll be back real soon, alright?” I tried, reaching around and released his harness. “There’s a river not far from here that’s within the dryads’ domain, you can take a rest there while we’re gone. No pixies will dare to disturb you there.”

August’s stomp finally ceased a little as he neighed in understanding. He gave me one last nuzzle on one cheek before throttling away, his steps considerably lighter. Lucky fella. At least one of us wouldn’t have to risk diving straight into another of the pixies’ grand pranks.

“Ready?” Herman asked, palms rubbing, schooling his face into a too hopeful grin.

I shook my head an immediate no but he dragged me with him anyway—with Jayden Forst another victim locked within his demonic grasp.

The runes on the trunks lighted up like wards against Grimm Evil when we crossed through the portal. But really, if they were wards, they failed miserably. I was the one to bonk her head on the low hanging branches, not the evil Author.

“You could’ve warned me before we cross. You know how teeny they always make their portals and hell, I am mortal now,” I mumbled, rubbing the molehill slowly forming on my forehead. “Bruises take time to heal for mortals.”

“Well, I can always kiss it away,” Herman mock kissed the air, his features shadowed as he stood against the blades of blinding white light behind him.

“Kisses don’t lift curses off a fae mom, genius. Those are for the princesses.” I sidestepped and ducked into the clearings before him, throwing my hair in his face as I did. “Sides, your kiss’s more of a curse than cure.”

Rows after rows of shrunk tree trunks that barely reached my waistline went around in a circle that spiralled inwards. A spread of bright yellow bellflowers surrounded the outer circle, morphing into darker shade of red and blues as they went. 

Within its heart, a single trunk that combined all colours of the bellflowers loomed against the sun, covering the trunks below with the shades of its thick branches crowded with golden leaves.

Warmth from the sun above kissed every inch of my skin as I lifted my face to the sky of purple and pale orange. Golden clouds formed from pixie dust refused to move, frozen in time within the pixies’ barrier. Only the little ones would think to mark their territory right up to the skies. 

‘A new season calls for a new design’ pretty much summed up the pixies’ life motto other than their infamous ‘prank, lest thou be pranked’. 

The last time we had been here, the place was crawling with so many giant beanstalks that we were made to think Jack went for another surprise visit up in the Giant’s castle. 

Dione would be perplexed if her charge was up for mischief again. Only Star knew how much trouble she had gone through with the giants after the Tale’s The End for giving the boy those beans. 

“Tell that to the girls in town, see how you drown in their saliva of protests,” Herman snorted, bending down to inspect the six bushes nearest to us. He kept a distance, eyes narrowed in concentration, careful not to touch the buds. Each bush sported different coloured bellflowers larger than the ones beyond. 

“Orange, teal, purple, yellow, pink and…green? Your guess?”

“Reality check, only pixies will fall for your ‘charms’.” I sighed, joining him to check the bushes, each appeared more suspicious than the other. 

As much as I appreciate the effort they put into rebuilding the place each season, the job of finding their doorbell after each change was a more dreadful task than cleaning up the royal stables. “Yellow? It’s the only repeating colour if you check those behind.”

That’s the problem with visiting pranksters, five out of their doorbells are usually landmines. If you can’t get it right, not even a message could pass into their main grounds without being flagged down and burnt. The best part? They change their ‘bells’ every season so you never know what to expect. 

The Star blessed the pixies with great minds for plans but forgot to bless them with honour and all the stuff Merryweather blessed her charge with. The only thing I could count on was fae mom’s luck…which fails me once every four times. Still a better bargain than Herman’s once out of twice though.

The furrow between Herman’s brows deepened. “I don’t know. Do you think Tink’s the kind who functions with logic?”

I didn’t need to think. “Absolutely not.”

Herman sighed. “What do you think, bro—?”

I whipped around at the sound of Herman’s sharp inhale. 

“Jayden Forst st—!” 

The words hadn’t left my lips completely when Jayden Forst’s fingers curled and lifted a bud from the bush of greens. Clear twinkling sound of the bells chimed in rhythm with the quickened pace of my heart and echoed in a circle around us.

—and complete silence. 

“Don’t. Move.” Herman warned, Adam’s apple bobbed once in his throat as his hands stilled in the air. Arms and legs spread, prepared to break into a run on cue. 

“What’s going on?” Jayden Forst asked, panic swarmed his eyes. But to his credit, he had stilled his limbs as Herman asked.

“Did you hear that?” Herman confirmed my thought. I almost wished it was the loud thumping of my heart. But no. A soft buzzing was approaching in the distance, almost akin to spring breeze brewing but not naturally so. 

Something was coming.

And a whole lot of them too.

“The pixies?” he asked, as uncertain as I was.

“Not in a million years.” If it was the pixies, we would hear their laughter or screams before the flutter of their wings. 

“I don’t know,” Herman swallowed. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this…you might want to—”

Herman didn’t manage to finish his words when the clouds of pixie dust dispersed and the sky dimmed. For split seconds, I was made to wonder if it had been another of Tink’s dysfunctional weather magic. 

Breath of relief almost left my lips when the sound came—a low rumbling that soon morphed into a wave of threatening buzz. A sky full of black and yellow came barrelling right towards us. 

Hornets.