How can something so tiny be so terrifying?
I feel the urge to burst out laughing, but I swallow it down and press my lips together firmly.
“Stop complaining or I’ll leave you out here all alone to fend for yourself, and trust me, you wouldn’t last the night.”
My mouth drops open. “That’s the first time I’ve complained.”
The fairy raises an eyebrow in challenge and my shoulders slump. “Fine. Can you at least tell me your name?”
“You don’t know a thing about the fae, do you?” She lets out a deep sigh, her expression exasperated.
I shrug. “Should I?”
I finally catch up to her and pause to catch my breath. She isn’t exactly setting an easy pace.
“Well, the three main things to remember, especially for humans,” she says, raising one finger. “One, do not say sorry or apologize. If you do, it implies that you owe them a favor. You don’t want to owe a fae anything, especially a favor. It’s the same as thank you. Don’t say it. We find it disrespectful as it diminishes our act of kindness, which in turn makes us angry.”
She must see me preparing to argue the point because she sighs heavily. “If you must . . . say, ‘I appreciate what you’ve done.’” Another finger. “Two, never ask a lesser fae their name.It’s sacred. Names hold power. We won’t give it to you. The high fae are different. You cannot control them by knowing their name.”
I open my mouth to ask her to elaborate, but she flies up to me, holding up another finger.
“Three. Us fae are selfish, spiteful, manipulative, and easily offended creatures, so stay quiet and don’t step on any more homes.”
My face heats in embarrassment, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from saying something I might regret. The fairy gives me a long, assessing look before turning away, her voice floating back to me. “Almost there, and you can call me Nix.”
“Nix,” I say, testing the name out on my tongue. It’s different, definitely not a name I’ve heard of before.
“My name is Everly.”
Nix keeps going without acknowledging me, and I groan in frustration. I am utterly spent, my eyes heavy with exhaustion, and my body slick with sweat.
“Is there a stream nearby, somewhere I can get a drink?” I ask.
My water bottle has long since emptied and my throat is parched. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck and back, and would love to splash some cool water on my face.
Nix either doesn’t hear me or chooses to ignore me as she continues on. After ten more minutes, Nix pauses beside a towering, hollowed out tree, the insides looking like a dark cave. The thick green glistening moss that blankets the bark gives off a faint musty smell.
“You can wait here. I will go the rest of the way alone.”
My eyes widen in shock and disbelief. “You’re leaving me here?”
Anxiously studying our surroundings, my fingers trembling as I grip the straps of my backpack tightly. The trees are thick here, and I can feel the coolness of the shade and the dampness of the soil. We are still deep in the forest, and although we haven’t come across anything, I know they are there, watching me. I wrap my arms around myself and shoot a desperate and pleading look at Nix.
“You will be fine. Stay hidden and you won’t be bothered.” She gestures to the tree.
I peer into the dark, hollow space and shake my head. “I’m not getting in there.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what’s in there.”
“Uh, nothing . . . ”
“You don’t know that!” I exclaim.
“Look, the quicker I leave, the quicker I can get help. Now stay here and stay quiet. You’ll be safe. Do not leave the tree. Okay?!”
For such a tiny creature, she sure is formidable and bossy. I puff out my cheeks. How did I get myself into this?
