Kol was taking deep, hard breaths, each one rising and falling against her body, but she didn’t let go. His arm came around to gently press itself to her back, and Piper eased her head away from his shoulder to take in what had happened.
An arch of earthen branches twisted and coiled tightly around one another in a dome only a few inches overhead. Light peeked in through small slivers like stars ripping across a deeply brown-black sky. “Whoa,” she heard herself say, gaze traveling along the dome to where it met the earth in every direction.
Piper’s wonder was chased away by a thump against their protective barrier. She shrieked and tightened her grip on Kol’s sweater, her arms finding their way inside his coat, pulling herself against him once again. “What are they?”
“Hmm?” Despite how close Kol was, his voice sounded far away, barely a rumble in his chest.
“The birds,” she whispered, shaking his middle. “They’renotbirds.”
Kol groaned and pulled away, raising a hand to the wall of the dome. “They’re stymphalian geese.” A glow from his fingers made the knotted limbs spread just enough to see through. “And they arenothappy.”
An eye appeared in the opening and was swiftly replaced by a hissing bill, the tongue inside protruding and covered in spines. Piper wished he hadn’t let go, pressing her back against the dome. “What thehell?”
“Close—they’re from the nether, and there are lots of guys with horns down there.” Kol twisted further away from her in the cramped space to peer out the hole he’d made. “Wait, are those…pixies?”
As the honking died off, the muffled shouting of tiny, high-pitched voices sounded from the other side of the branches. Piper sat forward on instinct and craned her neck to see out the miniature window as well. “You mean like fairies?”
A blur of violet zipped up to the hole. Broad and flat, the purple face was fifty percent mouth, wide and filled with dozens of pointed teeth at jagged angles. Six eyes peered back, each wholly black and blinking all in succession. The rest of its egg-shaped head was covered in spikes or maybe scales, it was hard to tell because Piper gasped and threw herself backward in the cramped space.
“No, I mean pixies. They aren’t faeries, but they’re more reasonable than stymphalians.”
The pixie screeched, followed by a series of nonsense sounds.
“Well, slightly more reasonable.”
Piper’s heart was finally slowing, realizing that the things outside couldn’t reach where they were. “What’s it saying?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Pixinese evolves so rapidly, no one can ever keep up well enough to translate, but I get the feeling it’s angry.” Kol pulled his device from the inside pocket of his coat, and Piper squashed up against him to see the screen. Symbols and images flew over the display as he swiped until a picture of a pixie showed up, this one closer to blue in skin, its smile a little sweeter if still full of terrifying choppers.
He scrolled upward, muttering to himself as he read, and Piper tried to follow along, but got caught on the wordscharlatanismandabduction. Then another pixie slammed into the first, and the two squawked into their sanctuary.
“Yeah, all right, all right.” Kol tucked away his device and sat forward on his knees, awkward in the tight space. “Look, we’re coming out, okay?”
“We are?” Piper gripped his arm with both hands.
Kol turned, his face close. He tipped his head down, gaze traveling over his arm and how she clung onto him. “This shelter isn’t going to last much longer,” he murmured, heat from his breath falling over her face. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them.”
Piper was still going to worry because she was one of those humans who couldn’t really exist without worrying at least a little, but she also trusted that Kol would do as he said, so she nodded and eased off of his arm.
Kol’s fingers traced over the weaving tendrils, and the bark receded into the fallen log at their backs. Blustery cold swept over the two, their warm bubble popped, but then Kol was quick to shove Piper behind him as they stood, holding firmly onto her arm.
Before them were assembled six geese, each more menacing than the last. Their bills were hemmed with fangs, and their feathers were indeed tipped with something metallic and shiny. Heads bobbed on snake-like necks, and they eyed the two as if they might attack at any moment.
Riding on the backs of four of the nightmare geese were what Kol had called pixies. Varying shades of purple and only about six inches tall, they glared with all three sets of their eyes. Two more were hovering before Kol, iridescent wings beating furiously at their backs. One wore a tattered vest made from some kind of leather-looking material and the other was covered in pieces of spiked armor. Both immediately started in, pointing with four-fingered hands as they blathered, and too often those tiny fingers pointed right at Piper.
“What do they want?” she asked as she peeked around Kol.
“Well, they know you took the tree, so I’m guessing they want you in trade.”
“Me? You said they’re from hell—I don’t want to go there! Can’t you tell them it’s Christmas and they’re supposed to be forgiving?”
Kol chuckled. “I said they’re from the nether, but they do live here now. Well, in the Everroot Grove, which is where they’d probably take you and do gods know what. You’ll get your tree back,” Kol told them, “it’s just going to take some time.”
The pixies didn’t seem pleased, even more tiny teeth bared as they shouted back, hovering closer to his face. The grip he had on Piper’s arm tightened.
“I’m sorry,” she said even as she hid behind Kol. “But can’t I just borrow it for a little while?”
The volume on the pixie shouting turned way up and sounded a lot like aNo.
