She admired Kaelan’s ability to put his ideals ahead of his nature. Perhaps the kiss of a nymph had helped him evolve to a higher consciousness than the rest of the so-called nobility. And yet, for some reason, the thought of Kaelan’s lofty principles only strengthened her desire for Endreas’s silken fingers.
“Snap out of it,” she growled, forcing her eyes to open. “Get up and get moving.”
Just then, her rat friend returned. He ran up to her and dropped a clutch of slender green reeds into her lap.
She gathered up the reeds and tipped their hollowed ends into her mouth, drinking the sugary water within. It trickled down her parched throat like cool honeyed milk.
Before she could thank him, he was gone.
Soon after, he was back with more.
“Thank you,” she said to him.
His black eyes gleamed knowingly at her. Then he darted off again.
By the time he was done, her thirst was abated and her lap was full of mushrooms and nuts and even some goldenberries, though only a few had survived the trip to her between the rat’s sharp teeth. She devoured everything he brought.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning back, stomach tender with the sudden influx of food, but she’d been too hungry to pace herself. “But I’m the one who’s supposed to be giving you the food, remember?”
He nudged her hand with his head.
“More,” he said.
“I don’t think I can eat anymore. I don’t want to be sick.”
“More words,” he said.
It took a moment for her to grasp what he meant. She straightened up slightly.
“I don’t know if I can give you more,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s possible.”
He bounded onto her lap and pressed his forefeet onto her chest, his nose twitching against her lips.
“I owe you too much to deny you, my little hero,” she said. “I only hope you won’t curse me when you fully realize what it is you’ve been given.”
She planted a kiss on the top of his head.
THREE DAYSthey traveled. Slowly, she grew stronger and faster. When she couldn’t find food on her own, Hero (as she’d taken to calling him) found it for her. He kept guard when she needed to rest. Otherwise, he curled up on her shoulder and snoozed while she moved deeper into the wilds of the Brackwood.
Though she knew there were many creatures in the trees, they avoided her. Not surprising. Pixies gave safe haven to the small folk, but they were not loved for it. They soaked the land with too much blood and were callous both towards those that served them and those who suffered at the hands of the Elf King. She knew, from living among small folk in the human world, that Pixies were only hated slightly less than Elves.
Yet, there were many more powerful creatures that continued to haunt Pixie territory: trolls, bans, ghouls. Not that the fairies, sprites, and imps couldn’t cause their fair share of trouble, but they were less malevolent than others. They knew it was generally not worth it to play their pranks on a Pixie.
As she moved though, she could feel the weight of eyes upon her. Every once in a while, she would stop and glance back through the gnarled black trunks, the moss-draped vines, the dewy dense ferns. But whoever was watching her, she never saw them. She didn’t worry about it too much. Too many creatures lived in the Brackwood for her to concern herself over curious gazes.
Finally, she reached the gully. Tangles of brambles stood between her and the hollow, thorns thick as her thumbs. Tamia must’ve grown tired of company, not that she had ever really invited it.
“Hero, wake up.” She shrugged her shoulder. The rat’s eyes snapped open, his needle-sharp claws digging into her shoulder.
“Ouch!” She winced. “Watch it.”
He pulled the sharp little daggers out of her skin.
“Sorry.”
“Think you can get through here?” she asked, gesturing towards the waist-high wall of thorny bush. Though he spoke in her mind, she preferred to speak to him aloud. It was just more natural for her.
“Of course,” Hero said in a rather haughty tone.
