When it happened, I was two inches tall—half the size of the pixies. The mushroom was more potent than the ‘drink me’ liquid, then.
“Seriously! The tiniest nibble!” I squeaked.
The guys nodded, and soon enough, all three of them shrank to my size. As we emerged onto the street, soldiers began sprinting from the castle in droves. The distraction was working.
“This way!” Dum cried out over the sound of soldiers’ boots hitting cobblestone. “We might have found another entrance!”
Only a dozen or so fae milled around outside the castle. Judging by their lavish attire, they were nobles attending the queen’s party, and were busy watching the troops respond to disaster. We had a straight shot across the road and into the cover of grass that lined a walking path around the moat.
The twins landed next to us. “We can’t fly in,” Dum announced. “We spotted two hawks circling above. They’re on the lookout for pixies and other small fae trying to worm their way inside. But we have another idea.”
“What is it?” I urged, not wanting us to lose the momentum of the distraction. There were still so many guards around, so many eyes.
“We cross the moat and then climb in through the pipes,” Dee said.
“And the birds won’t get us?”
“If we float in under the drawbridge, they won’t see us.”
“Yeah . . . But aren’t there crocodiles in the water?” I peered into the moat, trying to spot the crocs that a rebel had mentioned when we announced our plan to infiltrate the castle.
“There most certainly are. Monstrous ones,” Sansu confirmed, looking uncomfortable with the plan.
“If we float in on leaves or lily pads, they won’t notice. Those are always on top of the water’s surface,” Dee said, although she didn’t sound totally confident. “The hardest part would be climbing up the pipes.”
I mulled it over. It was better than a mad dash across the drawbridge, where soldiers and guests might spot or trample us, but crawling in through the pipes left a lot to be desired. Particularly when we wanted to mingle once we got inside. We couldn’t do that with slime all over our outfits.
I scanned the castle lawn, searching for an alternative, and noticed a carriage encrusted in gold stopping not far away. The carriage door opened, and a pretty, young, teenage fae, maybe a couple years my junior, exited. She was dressed in a light green princess gown that was puffed out with so much tulle that five children could fit beneath it.
“Actually, I have a better idea,” I whispered. “See that fae? In the huge green ball gown?”
Everyone nodded because you couldn’t miss her.
“We stow away under her skirts. We just need to stop her . . .”
Once again, I scrutinized the area outside the palace, and my lips lifted. A group of strapping, young fae men walked the moat path, toward the drawbridge. They were dressed well too, likely part of the girl’s social class. And every single one of them watched her hungrily.
I took a chance as I brought my fingers to my lips and blew hard.
A whistle pierced the air, catching the girl’s attention. She turned and beamed at the guys still staring at her.
“Come on!” I gestured for my friends to approach the walkway that cut through the grass. “She has to walk past us to talk to them. When she does, hop on and hide in her skirts.”
Hatter’s face flushed. “We can’t hide in a lady’s skirt!”
But I wasn’t about to let his modesty stand in the way of getting inside the castle. The girl was already nearly to us. There wasn’t time for hemming and hawing, so I yanked him into position right behind me.
Thankfully, the girl’s skirt bloomed so wide that it actually spilled out over the walkway into the grass, which meant there was no chance the guys would see us. Still, we exercised caution. The pixies went first, lifting the back of the skirt enough so that when the rest of us leapt out of the grass, we gripped tulle and not slippery satin.
Once we were inside and accounted for, we spread out, clinging to the fabric for dear life. And then we waited.
And waited.
Andwaited,while the girl laughed at the fae boys’ silly jokes, and every single one of them flirted with her.
After what felt like half a lifetime, I was regretting my brilliant idea, not to mention sweating an awful lot under her skirts. I’d just wiped my damp forehead on scratchy tulle for the tenth time, whenfinallyone boy suggested that they head inside so they could wish the queen a merry unbirthday before the festivities began.
I exhaled a breath as the girl turned back toward the drawbridge and started walking.
